


Dust to Dust (We've Been Lonely Too Long)

by myloveiamthespeedofsound



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Eventual Relationships, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Steve and Natasha are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5787118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myloveiamthespeedofsound/pseuds/myloveiamthespeedofsound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of connected one shots in which Natasha and Steve see how long they can maintain that they're just friends who happen to sleep together before they realize they're complete morons and might be a little bit in love with each other.</p><p>Title of series taken from the Civil Wars song, Dust to Dust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i need you (so much closer)

**Author's Note:**

> Steve and Natasha have a very interesting movie night when a certain revelation comes to light.

 

_I need you so much closer  
So come on, come on  
Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie _

It'd become routine in the weeks and months that followed the defeat of Ultron. The take out containers on Steve's coffee table, the empty beers and some movie or show on the tv - either one from his list or something random that peaked either of their interest while browsing Netflix - and Natasha's legs parked comfortably in his lap as they watched. It felt normal somehow - like the past year hadn't done something weird to them in the space between their farewell in the cemetery and regrouping the Avengers.

The team had disassembled and rearranged in the wake of Ultron. Steve and Natasha weren’t just teammates anymore, they were partners again - more than that, co-leaders. It wasn’t quite them against the world, but it was close somehow. They’d regained some of the closeness that had fallen to the wayside - they seemed less determined to hold each other at arm’s length. Steve knew a big part of it was the absence too of Bruce - it's the kind of thought that left him feeling a bit like an asshole. He knew what was different, they both did, even if they didn’t talk about it. He hated that she had gotten hurt, and he knew it was anything but fair, but it was easier to be in her space when he didn’t have to try to compartmentalize the jealousy he had felt at her growing closer to Banner.

He was a bit lost in the thoughts, his forearms rested comfortably on her legs. They’d had a crazy couple of weeks with a mission and continuing to train the team, the downtime actually felt nice after all that. Though he was sure if it lasted more than few days he’d be itching to get back out there. He’d barely been paying attention to what they had put on and it was only when Natasha shifted a little that he pulled himself from his thoughts. Natasha raised a brow as the argument the couple on the movie that was playing turned into something else. She titled her bottle to her lips and took a drink. “Well, I didn’t need that reminder that it’s been forever and a day since I got laid,” she said dryly and huffed a small laugh.

“Try never,” Steve muttered, still half distracted by his earlier thoughts, and then immediately stiffened as he realized he’d actually _said_ it. He definitely hadn’t meant to say that.

Natasha looked at him, brow perked in surprise. “Wait, what?” She asked as she sat up and folded her legs under her, turned to look at him. “ _Never_ never, or it’s been since 1945 and it might as well be never, never?”

Steve shifted where he sat and fiddled with the label of the beer still in his hand. He debated telling Natasha to just drop it, something he knew she would do if he asked. Still though, he found himself shaking his head a little and glancing at her beside him. “Never never,” he answered and shrugged sheepishly. “So do with that what you will,” he added and huffed a short laugh.

Natasha furrowed her brow a little as the revelation sunk in. She supposed it made sense in a way. Steve was Steve - he had a sense of morals that most couldn’t even fathom. Still though, she knew under all that was a man that wasn’t nearly as uptight and prudish as the world at large tended to think. She knew that while he might let a “language” slip in the middle of a fight he was still a little punk kid from Brooklyn who was more than capable of being a little shit when he wanted to be. “Why?” she asked after a minute. “I mean if you don’t mind me - asking - “ she amended. “Are you waiting?” It seemed like such a foreign concept to her, but Steve had been raised dramatically differently. Catholic and in a different time, she knew soldiers back then had been notorious for finding the comfort of a woman when they could but it was still not unheard of for men and women to wait until marriage.

Steve shook his head a little. “No, not really,” he answered, and his tone betrayed that he really wasn’t even sure about it anymore. “Back when my Ma was still around I knew she’d kill me if I got a girl in trouble and the thought of disappointing her never seemed worth it,” he started to explain, “besides it wasn’t like the girls were exactly lining up for me back then,” he tacked on with a bit of a self deprecating smile.

“Well, the girls back then were idiots,” Natasha chimed in and looked up at him. “You were adorable.” She offered him a smile when he looked at her like she was just placating him. “I’m serious, Steve, you were - and you were still _you_ , they missed out.” She held his gaze for a moment before she glanced down at the bottle in her hands, a sudden warmth spreading across her cheeks. Too much, she chided herself, too honest. “So what about after? During the war?” she asked after she took another quick drink of her beer.

Steve took a moment to regard the question. He leaned forward and put his bottle down. “Then I was waiting,” he admitted as he rested his forearms on his knees, hands clasped together and his lips pressed into a tight line. Peggy had changed a lot. Suddenly the girls were lining up but he’d only had eyes for one. He’d wait until the war was over, marry her and do it all right and honest. He just hadn’t planned for a seventy odd year detour.

Natasha immediately regretted the question as the pain of it flickered across Steve’s face. She set her own bottle down and hesitated for a moment before she reached a hand to squeeze his lightly. “I’m sorry, Steve,” she said. Her heart ached for him and how much it must still hurt some days - a life interrupted like that. She was quiet with him for a minute, her hand warm on his and there was a small notion that tugged in the back of her mind that she could just lean in a little more, rest her head on his shoulder. She didn’t though.

“And now?” Steve’s question pulled her from thought.

“Huh?” Natasha said and lifted her eyes from her hand on his to him.

“Come on, you’re dying to ask it,” Steve clarified with a bit of a teasing grin on his lips that almost, but didn’t quite, reach his eyes. “It’s okay, you can ask,” he assured her.

Natasha offered a smile back of her own and pulled her hand back, the earlier moment broken. “Alright - and now? What’s holding you back now?” she asked. He was right, she was curious. Steve held the weight of the world on his shoulders, the fact he had nowhere to find a release from that worried her. Not that she wanted him to sleep with half of New York, she just knew the way being physical with someone could dull the rest of the world, even for a little bit. If the reasoning was something she could fix, well, she’d fix it. Steve took care of the world, she took care of Steve.

“Too busy saving the world,” he offered as explanation and then raised his hands slightly with a sheepish grin as she gave him _that_ look. The one she’d given so many times when he used the same excuse to avoid all the dates she had tried to set up for him. “No, I’m serious, Nat,” he started. “I mean I’m not - “ he paused and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed about talking about his sex life, or lack thereof, with Natasha, but it was still not the world’s most comfortable conversation for him. “I know that sex and love don’t always go hand in hand and that’s something I’m okay with, but I’d at least like to know the woman before it gets that far.” he remarked.

“Knowing people is overrated, Steve,” Natasha pointed out dryly.

“You know what I mean,” Steve countered. He was quiet again and seemed to debate his next words with himself before he spoke. “I need to trust them,” he said softly and flickered his eyes to her. “You can’t tell me you don’t get that,” he added. They were very private people in a very public world. Steve knew at the end of the day he was never _just_ Steve Rogers anymore. He lived in an era thirsty for information in a monsoon of it. The wrong person and he knew that the tale would be all over the internet before he could even have a hope of stopping it. Even if he wasn’t a virgin he would still be hesitant.

“I get it,” Natasha said gently. She wasn’t the same kind of public figure Steve was, but she was an Avenger. If she was honest it was a big reason why it had been a while for herself as well. She had a sordid enough of a past out there for everyone to view and judge, she didn’t need more piled on top of it. She mulled it over in the silence that settled between them.

“So to summarize,” she began, and she put a purposeful lightness into her tone to shift the weight of the conversation. If there was one thing she hated, it was Steve being pulled under by the gravity of his own life. She wanted to be the escape, at least nights like these when the world for once didn’t need saving. “What’s holding you back from no longer being a ninety eight year old virgin,” she gave him a smirk when he tossed a look her way at the classification, “is looking for someone who you both know and trust, and I’m assuming are sexually attracted to?”

Steve gave a dry laugh and nodded. “Well, when you put it that way, yeah,” he answered. He leaned back against the couch and gave her a side glance. “If you think of anyone, feel free to send them my way,” he joked lightly.

Natasha bit her lower lip as she stared at his profile. The man really was a clueless idiot. She set her beer down and reached for the remote to stop the show which had still been playing in the background. She gave Steve a sly grin as he lifted his head back up at that, and crawled over him to straddle his lap. “Uhh - Natasha?” he asked, still completely clueless and she tried not to dwell on how he at least made an adorable clueless idiot.

She laced her fingers around his neck. “You know me,” she pointed out and smirked when he nodded. “You trust me,” and it wasn’t a question. Not anymore. They were past questioning the complete and unmitigated trust they had in each other. Another small nod. She perked a brow as she pointed out the last requirement. “And I’ve seen you looking at my ass more than enough times when you think I’m not paying attention to know you’ve thought about it,” she leaned down and oh so softly let her lips brush against the faint stubble of his jawline. “I think that makes me three for three,” she spoke against his skin and there was a small, satisfied, smile as she felt his hands tighten slightly where they had settled against her hips.

“Natasha…” he started to protest, even if it was a weak one at best as her lips pressed more firmly into his jaw. He looked down when she lifted her head to look at him. “You don’t - “ he didn’t finish, it didn’t matter. She could _see_ the wheels turning in his head. She knew where he was going with the thought. Some self pitying notion that she would only be doing this because she felt sorry for him.

“Steve,” she said and let her hands fall to curl against his chest. “I want this,” she assured him. She waited until he lifted his gaze toward her to speak again. “I’ve _wanted_ this,” she continued. For longer than she would ever admit, for reasons she couldn’t even declare to herself. She wanted him, plain and simple. She had no grand illusions of them dating, holding hands at the movies or whatever it was normal people did - and she knew he didn’t either. They were who they were, they didn’t have the time or space for normalcy. Maybe some could - Tony, Clint, they managed to carve out lives beyond their duty, but Natasha knew she and Steve weren’t built like that. They would live the life until it killed them. But that didn’t make them any less human, didn’t make them need a physical connection to someone any less. “Okay?” she asked kept his gaze.

“Okay,” he said and nodded. Natasha rolled her hips forward as she pressed her lips to his. It was slow at first, certain but tentative somehow, testing the waters. They’d kissed before, though she supposed it didn’t really count and had been over before poor Steve had even really caught up to what was happening. This was different. _So_ much different as Steve let a hand move up to tangle in her hair and pulled her in closer as he deepened the kiss. Her hands started to work at the buttons of the button down he wore and she pushed it off his shoulders once they were undone. Steve broke away from her to shrug out of it, left in a t-shirt.

“Bed,” Natasha demanded as much as she suggested and gave him a grin. He hooked his arms under her ass and easily stood as she wrapped her legs around him. Her hands circled around his neck and tugged gently at the short hair there as she met his lips once more. He was careful with his footing as they made their way to his bedroom and he hit the switch at the door to turn on the bedside lamp as he carried her in.

She unwrapped her legs and stood when they were at the edge of the bed. She crossed her arms in front of her and grasped at the bottom hem of her shirt before she lifted it up and discarded it on the floor. She looked up at Steve and held his gaze as he reached behind him to pull at the neck of his shirt and tossed his to the side as well. Her eyes roamed the planes of his chest, the wide expanse of muscle and taut skin, and God if it wasn’t a crime that one man could look like that. She’d known he was built like a goddamn brick house but it was different seeing it like this, different with her hands pressed against his bare skin; and it hit her out of the blue that the last time she’d seen him half naked had been when they’d found him bleeding out and broken on the bank of the Potomac. Her hand trembled slightly as it explored his chest, the memory of this same skin with large, ugly, purple blotches as the medics cut off his suit and shocked him back into breathing still so vivid.

Steve had seen half naked women before - the girls in the USO hadn’t exactly been the shyest bunch and it hadn’t been uncommon for them to traipse around in next to nothing. If it hadn’t been for his feelings for Peggy he had no doubt those months would have had him anything but a virgin in the end. So the female form was not a mystery to him, but all those girls couldn’t hold a candle to the sight of Natasha in nothing but a black lace bra and a pair of jeans bathed in the warmth of the table light. Especially not as her hands moved to run over his skin and he couldn’t help the soft moan that fell from his lips under her touch. He’d thought of this - more often than he probably should have. He’d thought of how her hands would feel as they completely unraveled him, the taste of her mouth, the way it would feel to lose himself in her and see nothing but her pale skin and red hair. But now that they were here, now that this was a reality and not just a fantasy he knew he probably shouldn’t be having, he suddenly felt unsure. What if he was a disappointment - what if he was terrible. What if he ruined everything they had for what she would only remember as a night of bad sex.

“Steve…” she said against his skin as her mouth moved to follow the path her hands had taken, which brought another low moan from him. “You’re thinking too much again,” she pointed out and looked up at him. Her hands moved to unbutton his jeans and she tugged them off before she nudged him back toward the bed. She stepped in to straddle him again, her hands pressed to either side of his face. “Talk to me,” she said softly. He was hesitating and she wouldn’t go forward with him like that. This wasn’t a mark, this wasn’t a job, this was her friend. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than him being completely sure.

“I just - I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he admitted. “What if I’m awful.” His eyes cast downward.

She leaned in and kissed him gently. “You’re not going to be awful,” she assured him. For one thing she was fairly certain it was impossible for Steve to be awful at pretty much anything physical. “It’s like - “ she paused as she tried to think of a good analogy. “It’s like dancing, it’s easy,” she settled on.

Steve huffed a laugh at that. “Yeah, I haven’t really danced either,” he pointed out and looked up at her, a sheepish look on his face. This was going to be a disaster.

“Yes you have,” Natasha said simply. “You dance with me. Out there, on the field. You dance with me - and if you can’t see how that’s been nearly three years of some of the hottest foreplay ever then I don’t know what the hell to tell you,” she said with a salacious grin.

She turned serious as she looked at him, desire in her eyes as the thought of what she was about to say curled in her core and spread through her body. “You _know_ me, Steve,” she started to trail her lips against his neck as she talked, “you know where I am without even looking, you know what I’m going to do even before I do,” she paused to suck a mark against the skin of his collarbone and it surprised her how much she wished it would stay long after they were done - that it could proclaim to the world she’d marked him, he was hers and she was the only one who could claim so - and she forced the thought from her mind. “And I know you. You can’t be terrible at this,” she stopped and reached for his hands that he’d been keeping on the mattress and placed them on her thighs as she searched his eyes, “not with me.”

That seemed to quell the thought and the hesitation in his eyes was quickly replaced with desire as their mouths crashed together again. He slid a hand up her thigh and grasped at the spot where it met her hip bone. She shivered as his thumb brushed against her through her jeans and she grinded against him. She could feel the length of him pressed against her through his boxers, the answer as to whether or not the serum had enhanced _everything_ more than abundantly clear. Steve’s hands moved to tug on the button of her jean and she stilled the movement with hers. She pulled back just enough to give him a devilish smirk before she trailed her lips down his chest as she slid off his lap and moved to her knees on the floor in front of him.

“Jesus, Natasha,” he mumbled, hands pressed back into the mattress to stabilize himself as he lips moved further down.

“Language, soldier,” she couldn’t help but retort in reply. She tugged at his boxers and he lifted his hips so she could pull them off him. Well, she thought, literally every inch of this man is perfect. She ran her tongue along the v of his hips as she let a hand loosely, but purposefully stroke the length of him. Natasha had long ago learned how sex could be used as power, it had been ingrained into her - and this was hardly her first time with someone who had never had sex before. She knew this was the first time it was someone who knew her though, as much as anyone ever had known her, and who still _wanted_ her.

It was empowering in a way every lecture on using sex as weapon the Red Room had given could never have been - because for once it wasn’t a weapon. She’d always viewed those times with other inexperienced men as taking something from them, she took their virginity. She knew that this time - for maybe the first time ever, regardless of the experience of her partner, as Steve hissed a sharp intake of air as her lips wrapped around the length of his cock and he breathed out her name with nothing but reverence - that she wasn’t _taking_ anything. She was giving - and God if that wasn’t the biggest turn on she’d ever found.

Steve’s hand threaded in her hair as her mouth worked him, her hand wrapped around what her mouth missed. She peered up at him, his head hung back slightly and mouth agape as his eyelids fluttered. “Feels so good, Nat,” he mumbled out, his grip tightened every so often as she brought him to the brink. He lasted longer than she expected - she figured it had something to do with the serum and its effect on his stamina - and when he did come it was with her name on his lips as his body shuddered with release. Natasha crawled back up him and settled in his lap once more as her lips started to trail softly against the skin of his neck. He stilled her movements by cupping her face in his hands and laughed softly. “Too much…” he said and hissed a breath as her lips lingered over the sensitive skin.

“That’s the point,” she teased lightly but lifted her head up to look at him. She grinned, satisfied with the half dazed look on Steve’s face. There was a sense of pride in it. Captain America, the living legend, undone under her touch.

“Being the death of me is the point?” he teased back and laughed softly as ducked his head into the space between her neck and shoulder as he steadied his breathing. “Definitely worse ways to go.”

“Making you let go is the point,” she corrected and cupped his face when he looked back up at her again. Her expression turned serious as she searched his eyes. “You carry too much, Steve,” she began, “the whole damn world half the time and a hell of a lot more than one man should have to the rest of it.” She let her eyes fall downward, as though her next words were too truthful, too much of what she felt laid bare between them, and her fingers moved to trace the line of his lips. “I worry about you.”

He watched her as she spoke and swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat at her words. He knew the distance she kept between herself and others, and he’d learned a long time ago the amount of weight in the subtext of what Natasha said, what existed between the lines. He knew how hard it was for her to admit how she really felt. He laced his fingers through hers and pressed her palm to his lips to kiss it gently. He had a hundred things he wanted to say in reply - but he settled for simply, “I worry about you too.” He hooked a hand under her chin and tilted it up to look at him. “Natasha, I - “ he started after a pause, but was quickly cut off by her lips against his. He took the hint for what it was and wrapped his arms around her tight as he kissed her back.

He kept his grip on her as he stood and turned to lay her down on the bed, he steadied himself above her, careful to keep his weight from crushing down on her and claimed his lips with hers once more. He lifted her hands up to the pillow and ran his fingers lightly down the underside of her arms and smiled at the goosebumps left behind. His hand paused, a slight hesitation, before he ran it over her breasts - soft at first and then a grip that elicited a moan from Natasha. He dragged his lips against the skin of her collarbone and his hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Natasha laughed as he finally got it after a good minute. “Steve Rogers, can take out hordes of highly trained HYDRA agents but falls apart around a bra,” she teased.

“Hey, cut me some slack - first time, remember?” he retorted back and peered up at her with brows raised. He couldn’t help but feel a little in over his head again as he looked over her bare chest, but her words from earlier came back to him. _You know me._ Steve watched her face as he grasped her breast again, listened to the hitch in her breath as he let his mouth move to capture her other nipple. His tongue darted out to run over her nipple, drawing out another low moan. He repeated it on the other side as his hands slid down toward the waist of her jeans. His mouth followed his hands and he worked her button undone. He pulled off her jeans and panties and dropped them to the ground.

He propped himself up on his elbow and took a moment to just _look_ at her. His free hand trailed over her skin lightly, and it terrified him a little to realize just how content he would be to stay in this bed forever and map every inch of her skin with his hands and his lips. He knew the image of her laying naked in his bed, goosebumps where his fingers trailed and her eyes half lidded with desire as he let his mouth follow would be burned into his memory, but the memory would never compare. How could it. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out against her skin. His hands ran over the skin of her stomach and up her sides - over the white, jagged edges of scars, some fainter than others and each one a marker of everything that made her _her_.

His hand dipped lower to run up the inside of her thigh and she shivered. He took her nipple in his mouth again as he slid his hand between her legs and brushed over her clit. He knew his hand trembled, overwhelmed by the knowing that not only was this happening, it was happening with Natasha. He wanted her, he had for a while, and it had been the first time he had wanted something since he’d woken up seven decades into a future he still struggled to understand. Now that he was here, he wanted to savor it, make her feel as good as he just had, wanted to know how his name sounded on her lips as she came apart.

 _You know me_. He let her lead him, how she moved under his touch as he increased the pressure of where his thumb ran circles against her clit as he gained confidence, the way her hand tightened it’s grip in his hair as he slowly sunk a finger into her, the ragged gasps of her breath. His mouth moved downward, over her curves and the lean muscle underneath. He knew this body already. He knew everything it was capable of and how even laid bare like this she could still a man twice her size and he wondered idly if there was something wrong in how completely hot he found that.

His mouth mapped its way to the apex of her thighs and he slid another finger in her as he darted his tongue out to flick at her clit. “Good, that’s good,” she said between breaths and tugged at his hair. “Keep doing that,” she let him know and her hips bucked against his fingers that he slid in and out. Back in his army days he’d heard more than his fair share of men talk about this part of sex and it seemed a divisive act. Steve however quickly realized he was decidedly on the pro side as the low moans Natasha gave as his tongue explored her went straight to his core. He was hard already, his senses overwhelmed in the most amazing way with the way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she moaned his name out as her breath hitched.

What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in being able to read her the way he did. The hand she hadn’t threaded through his hair gripped at the bedsheet beneath her. She could feel herself getting closer to the edge, and she bucked her hips up against his hand and mouth as he slid a third finger in to join the other two. She was so close but she didn’t want to come, not yet. She knew she couldn’t always get there from penetrative sex, but that if she was already close when they started it would make it far more likely. She wanted that for him, for his first time. “Steve…” she breathed out and moaned softly as his fingers curled inside her and he looked up at her - and hell if that wasn’t a sight that would stick with her. “Get up here,” she said. He obliged and kissed his way up.

He seemed to hesitate when he was eye level with her again, as though not certain if it was acceptable to move to kiss her again after where his mouth had just been. She pulled him down and answered the silent question for him. She slid a hand between them and stroked him a few times before she pulled back to look at him. “Okay?” she asked as she held his gaze. She had no idea how she’d walk away now, but she would, if he wasn’t sure now that they were just moments away from him officially no longer being a virgin. Above all he was her friend, her partner, she wanted to be sure he was sure.

Steve ran his thumb over her cheekbone and let his lips graze lightly against her temple. Natasha knew she was probably ruined for life now with the way he looked at her right then, like she was the only damn thing in the world that mattered, like he would never want anything besides her. She’d made men look at her like that before - but never like this. Never of their own accord, never at _her_ and not at the cover she was playing. He smiled at her, and she wasn’t sure what terrified her more right then. Never having him look at her like this again, or having him look at her like this for as long as she’d let him. She’d never been in love, and she wasn’t silly enough to think this was it right now - but she could imagine it being something like this. “Okay,” he said and leaned in to kiss her slowly, his hand tangling in her hair.

She broke the kiss off after a moment and reached between them to guide him inside her. He was still at first, which suited her fine as she needed a minute to adjust to the size of him. Her hands gripped around his biceps, as well as she could at least, and she shifted a little under him. He filled her fully, completely, and she figured she was a damn fool for sleeping with a super soldier because really what would live up to this now. She grinned up at him a little. “Consider yourself officially no longer the world’s oldest virgin,” she teased him.

Steve laughed and ducked his head into her shoulder. “Hey now, there’s gotta be some hundred year old Priest or Monk out there.” He lifted his head and braced his hands on either side of her head as he started to slide in and out of her. He wondered how people could ever do anything else when this felt so good, he wondered if it would _always_ feel this good or if that was just her. More than anything he wondered why they hadn’t done this a long time ago because the real thing was infinitely better than anything his mind and hand ever came up with when he’d let his thoughts wander toward her during a sleepless night. He kept his gaze on her, the part of her lips, the pleasure that flickered across her face as he sunk back into her and her hips would rise up to meet him. “God, you feel so good,” he said, his voice low and husky as they moved together.

Natasha knew she was tiny next to Steve, most people were, but it was entirely different with him on top of her. All she could see was him, all she could feel was him, and she knew she’d feel it for days after. There was nothing but smooth skin, muscle, and that goddamn jawline that would be the death of her. She hooked her legs around him and let out a moan as he hit her just right. It was almost too much, the feel of him above her, the feel of him in her. She reached a hand up to lace her fingers through his and she could feel herself start to unravel. “Steve,” she half said, half moaned and bit down on her lower lip for moment. “I’m so close,” her voice wavered and her grip on his hand tightened.

The feeling as her inner muscles clenched around his cock in orgasm tipped Steve over in tandem - and as much as he tried to focus on her, memorize her face as she came with a shudder it was so hard when he could barely think. He was fairly certain the world could end around them and he wouldn’t even notice right then. It was just them - her skin against his, the way it felt to find release in her, her fingers threaded through his, her breath ragged and hot against his neck. When he could find it in him to move he slid off of her, certain he was probably nothing short of a dead weight against her. She moved to wrap an arm around his torso, her leg sliding between his. He let a hand run idle patterns down her back, the other ran through her hair as they both started to come down.

“Best movie night yet,” Natasha said with a soft chuckle after a few minutes and turned her head to press her lips to his chest.

“I don’t know how we’ll ever top it,” he replied, a grin on his face.

“I could think of a few ways,” she said pointedly and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. She trailed a finger down his skin as he raised a brow in slight confusion. “Everyone needs practice,” she echoed their conversation from what felt like a lifetime ago. She stilled her movements against his chest and glanced down before she continued. “I’m not - I can’t _date_ you, Steve, I don’t work like that,” she admitted and looked up at him. “But I can do this. You need this.” A small pause. “I need this,” there was another glance away, it was hard for her to be this honest. She didn’t put herself out there like this, it never ended well for her. Even if she trusted him more than she had ever trusted another person it was a bit akin to standing on the edge of a cliff and waiting to be pushed over.

“Natasha…” Steve started but faltered. He wasn’t even sure what to say. His brain went in a hundred different directions and he could feel the old fashioned sensibilities that still lingered so deeply in him conflict with what he knew his life was now. He knew the so called normal way of doing this didn’t fit with his life, even if some days he still wanted it to. He didn’t have the time to be truly fair to someone in a relationship. Even if he did there were so many risks inherent in being who he was, risks people outside of their world couldn’t even begin to understand. Every time he went out he knew there was a chance he wouldn’t come back. He knew he would die in the middle of a battle. He had no retirement plan. He would always be Captain America first, and Steve Rogers second. He couldn’t put someone who didn’t understand that, who really _couldn’t_ understand it even if they wanted, in the middle. And as he looked at Natasha he suddenly realized they were the same. Of everyone, they were the ones who would never get out. Why shouldn’t they take comfort and solace where they could - with each other.

She misread the hesitation though and sat up, her head shaking as she glanced down. “It’s - it’s okay, forget I said - “ her words were cut off as he kissed her.

His hands lingered on her face as they parted and he offered her a soft smile, his forehead resting against hers. The ghost of her touch still lingered on his skin, the sound of his name on her lips still lingered in his mind, more than all that though the way she made him feel like he wasn’t so goddamn _alone_ washed over him and he wanted _more_. “You mean the world to me, Nat,” he started. If they were going to do this it couldn’t end what meant the most in the end, their friendship. Some days it felt like she was the only real one he had. Bucky was - well - gone. Sam was great and Steve was so grateful for whatever fate was at work that brought Sam into his life. Sam didn’t know him though, not like Natasha did. Sometimes it felt like Natasha was the only place he ever got to be Steve anymore, and not Captain America. The thought of losing that friendship terrified him.

“You’re my friend, my partner, and I won’t lose that over sex, even really amazing sex.” She couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “So if this gets too weird, or too much, for either of us - we just say the word and we stop, everything goes back to how it was before tonight. Deal?” He knew he was probably being naive. There was no going back - there hadn’t been since she’d climbed into his lap, but he was willing to fool himself.

Natasha nodded and took a moment to reach up and gently squeeze his hands. She wanted to tell him he meant the world to her too, that she couldn’t even begin to fathom how she would handle losing him. She couldn’t though - she already felt too raw, too vulnerable from everything she had already admitted. “Deal,” she said instead. She held his gaze for a moment before she leaned in to kiss him, chaste compared to what had just happened.

She moved away from him and stood up. She grabbed her panties from the floor and stepped back into them before she picked up his t-shirt and pulled it over herself. “Wait, I didn’t sign up for you stealing my clothes,” he teased and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He leaned over to grab his boxers from the floor and hitched them back on.

“You just signed up for a lot of things, Rogers,” she refuted plainly. She stepped toward him and raked her hands through his hair before she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Besides, I look better in it,” she added with a grin.

He made a show of looking her over, his arms looped lightly around her waist, and then nodded in agreement. “I can’t even pretend to argue about that one,” he said.

Natasha grinned at him and then headed back into the living room. She handed him one of the take out containers that still had some rice in it from the table when he joined her and she grabbed another for herself. They settled back on the couch, her legs stretched out on his once more, and turned the movie back on. They let a comfortable silence fall between them as they ate and tried to get back into the movie.

“What?” asked Steve as Natasha broke the silence with a soft chuckle.

“I was just thinking that if we’d gone with the Lion King you’d still be a virgin,” she pointed out with a smirk.

Steve rolled his eyes, but laughed none the less. “You know what, Romanoff..”


	2. i want to satisfy (the undisclosed desires in your heart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bad day ends pretty well after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, chapter two! A huge thanks to everyone who's been reading and leaving comments and kudos, I really appreciate it.

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
_I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask_  
_I want to exorcise the demons from your past  
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_

_Muse - Undisclosed Desires_

 

It had been three weeks since movie night had turned into something else.  They hadn’t told anyone, and nothing had really changed.  They still lead their team, they did their jobs, they hung out like they used to, they just happened to have sex in addition to everything else that they were already doing.  Absolutely fantastic sex, Natasha had come to realize as they both got used to each other, as Steve got used to the idea of sex in general.  It wasn’t a relationship - at least not outside the relationship they already _had_.  Neither of them were in a head space conducive to making anything more official than friends who fucked.  Although she supposed the fact they spent nearly every waking moment together between leading the team and their off duty activities made this the closest thing to a relationship she’d ever had - though she tried not to think about that one.  She never spent the night (even if there were times she was sorely tempted to, with his arms wrapped around her so tight, when everything felt so warm and safe, the reality of their lives a million miles away) and they never made plans much past the next day.  They just simply existed in a bubble of now that both of them couldn’t admit just how much they needed.  

There was one thing though that ate away at Natasha.  While the sex was amazing and she’d felt more grounded and less stressed out in the past three weeks than she had in… well… ever, there was still something not quite right.  Steve hadn’t let go.  Not entirely.  He held back, she could tell.  She wasn’t sure _why_ , but he was - and that simply wouldn’t do.  The whole point of this was for him to let go - to completely lose himself in this new aspect of their relationship.  

It’d been a hard day, training had gone south and the political undertones of being an Avenger had snuck up in full force.  Everything that could have gone wrong, had, and by the time they all headed their separate ways Natasha could more than see the stress of it all that weighed on Steve.   It wasn’t maybe apparent to most, which was a testament to the kind of leader her was.  She easily saw through it though, she always had been able to.  The way he carried himself that was just slightly off, the way his eyes darkened with the worry and the frustration of the day, the subtle set in his jaw which was just past tense.  It only furthered her resolve to make him let go - fully and completely.  He needed it, he needed to escape his head space and everything that came hand in hand with being Captain America.  

She perked a brow when he let her in, it’d been less than two hours since they’d all gone home - but Steve had clearly gone for a run in the space between, his shirt and brow still damp with sweat.  “You don’t ever quit, do you?” she asked and to some it might have sounded like a deadpan remark, but the concern was more than evident to Steve’s ears.  

He shrugged a little and moved to the kitchen.  He picked up the carton of juice he had left on the counter to answer the door and leaned against the fridge as he took a drink.   “Bad day,” he said tensely, like it was a given, and she could _see_ the white of his knuckles as he gripped the juice carton.  

“I know, I was there,” she pointed out with a small smirk as she stopped just short of him.  

Steve ducked his head and gave it a small shake before he looked up at her with a sheepish expression.  “I know,” he paused for a moment.  “I’m sorry.”  They were a team, his bad day was her bad day too.  

It was only then that he really looked at her since she’d arrived.  Her hair curled loosely around her face, lipstick red against her pale skin - and she had clearly gone home and changed because he definitely did not remember those heels all day.  Hell, his day might have been okay if she’d been in those heels all day, with what they did to her legs, clad in black stockings that disappeared beneath the hem of her trenchcoat where it hit her mid thigh, and God if that wasn’t doing things to him.  Natasha always looked good, she always dressed well and even in the middle of a battlefield she still somehow managed to look put together.  This was more though, this was dressed up.  It hit him like a ton of bricks suddenly and twisted in the pit of his stomach because surely she didn’t throw on those heels and make sure she looked this good just to come check up on him.  “You - you have plans or something?” he asked and prayed it did sound as, well, jealous, as he thought it did.

Natasha’s fingers deftly undid the buttons of her coat as she walked toward him, a playful smile on her lips.  “Only with you,” she said, her voice low as she let the coat puddle at her feet.  Steve swallowed hard as he took in the sight.  He had assumed she’d had a dress on underneath - he hadn’t expected the sheer black lace bra, the matching lace panties and the stockings that met with the clips of a garter belt mid thigh and he had to remember how to breathe as she stepped in to him.  Her hands gently took the carton of juice he still held onto and set it back on the counter before she titled her head up to look at him - and she couldn’t help the small smile at his expression, a mixture between completely turned on by it all but still a little bit like a deer caught in headlights.  It was adorable.  The smile turned into a little grin before she leaned up - it wasn’t so much of a stretch in the four inch heels as it usually was - and trailed her lips across his jaw.  “Still having a bad day?” she asked, her voice low and wanton, as her hands slid up and under his shirt.  

He hissed a breath in as her hands touched him and his head fell back to clunk against the fridge.  His brain struggled to catch up with what was happening. The very real fact that Natasha had driven here with the sole intention of fucking him, wearing nothing but _that_ under her jacket was doing things to him that he could barely handle.   “Looking up.  It’s - uh - “ another sharp intake of air as her lips sucked a mark against the side of his neck.  “Definitely looking up,” he added on breathlessly.

Natasha gave him a wicked grin and dropped a hand down to cup him through his pants.  “I would say so,” she said with a smirk and then brought her hand back up to his chest as she started to kiss him.

She pulled back just enough to be able to look at him.  “You’re holding back,” she said, suddenly serious as her hands stilled their movements against his skin.  “With me, with this,” she held his gaze for a minute.  “The point was to let go, remember?”

Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to follow her sudden detour.  One minute she was kissing him in those soft little ways that she knew drove him absolutely insane and her hands roamed over his bare skin, and the next she’d turned serious - and she really should give some warning if she was going to detour like that while wearing what she was wearing.  “I don’t - “ he stumbled.

“Yes, you do,” she countered plainly.  He both loved and hated when she would do that.  The deadly calm of _I’m right and you’re wrong and we both know it, Rogers, so just stop trying to argue with me_ .  “You’re holding back and I want you to stop, especially after a day like today,” she continued.  “What are you scared of - I’m here, I want this… I want _you_ ,” she kept her eyes on him as she talked, even as he ducked his head down to break the eye contact.  
  
What he was scared of was a complicated question.  One he wasn’t even sure how to begin to answer.  Letting go was a terrifying concept.  Letting go meant letting her in, completely.  It meant being honest with himself about just how much he wanted and needed this.  How much he wanted and needed _her_ .  How much this wasn’t just sex and how he’d been an idiot to think it ever _could_ be when she was already so ingrained in every part of his life.  He was scared of the depth of his desire, of the things he wanted to do with her.  Things that the part of him that was still very much that good Catholic boy from another time felt abashed by, and how many nights had he stayed up sleepless with the guilt of it all.  Good Catholic boys didn’t daydream about fucking their partner on their desk, they didn’t think about how she’d look tied to their bed and screaming their name.  He was scared of hurting her, of how easy he could push too far, hold on too tight, how even though he knew how capable and strong she was she was still so breakable in so many ways and how he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her.  

It was uncanny the way she could read him, how with one look she could gauge the mental war he waged.  She knew him, in ways more intimate than even their bedroom activities.  She cupped his face, gently guiding his head back up to look at her.  “You’re not going to hurt me,” she said decisively.  “I trust you.”  Her hands moved to return to their earlier work of running over his chest, and her lips grazed against the lobe of his ear as she spoke softly, “and it’s been a really bad day.  So let it go, Steve, and fuck me the way you want to fuck me.”

He could feel his cock stiffen at the proposal, she would be the death of him he just knew it.  And oh how he’d die a happy man.  Steve took a moment to look at her again, the pale of her skin highlighted by all the black lace, the stockings that he was certain all men of his era had a thing for, the red lips, the shoes, everything.  The very real fact that she had gone home and planned this out because she wanted his, their, bad day to have a good ending.  “You’re amazing,” he got out between a moan as she captured his earlobe between her lips.  Steve lifted his hands to cup her face and pulled her back to look at him, he let his forehead rest gently against hers and his eyes fluttered shut as he started to speak.  “So amazing, Natasha.  Do you even have any idea how incredible you are, what you do to me - “ he trailed off as he realized where he was going.  Too much.  He swallowed hard and then slid a hand behind her neck and crushed his lips to hers, hard and unrelenting.  As though he could bury the thoughts into their kiss, say it all without having to _say_ it.  His hand gripped in her hair and he pushed them back toward the island that separated his kitchen from living room.  

Her ass hit the edge of the counter and Steve easily lifted her up onto it without breaking from their kiss.  It was almost predatory the way he leaned over her as they kissed and how much it managed to turn her on instead of kicking in her defenses was a testament to how much she fully trusted him.  She reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head.  Her lips moved to trail across his bare skin but he pushed her back onto the counter.  She let out a little gasp of shock as the cold of the granite hit her skin, but it was soon forgotten as Steve’s lips grazed over hers and his tongue slid into her mouth to run along hers.  He moved a hand to cup at her breast as their mouths parted and his other hand moved down the front of her neck.  His mouth followed, somewhere between a kiss and a lick and it pulled a shudder from her.  He mouthed at her breasts through the lace as he continued down and moved to his knees in front of her.

Steve lifted up one of her legs and ran a hand along the top of her stocking, his mouth mimicked the move.  He glanced up at her briefly with a devilish smirk before he hooked the leg over his shoulder and his mouth moved upward.  Natasha let out a low moan as he did.  “This was supposed to be about you,” she reminded him.  

“It still is,” he murmured against the skin of her thigh. “Trust me,” he added on as his fingers brushed lightly against her clit through the fabric of the lace and she squirmed under the touch.  He had quickly learned how much of a turn on it was to have her fall apart under his touch.  Steve sunk two fingers into her and let his teeth graze against the skin of her thigh as she let out a moan and dug her heel into his back.  He used his free hand to push aside her panties and gave a teasing dart of his tongue to her clit.  

Natasha had learned one very important thing in the past few weeks - Steve Rogers was a goddamn tease.  And while normally she didn’t mind it, she even took more than her fair share of pleasure in the delaying, and could give as good as she got, she wasn’t about to stand for it now.  She let a hand move down to tug at the back of his head and pulled him in closer.  “More,” she all but demanded and carded her fingers through his hair as she tightened her legs around his shoulders.

Steve was happy to oblige, but the scrap of fabric that passed for underwear was still enough to be in the way.  He paused for a moment, uncertain how to proceed.  He wasn’t exactly an expert in women's lingerie, but he figured there wasn’t a way to pull them off without having to unclip the stockings from her garter and he very much liked those in intact.   _Let it go._  He gripped the garment in his hands and it tore in two with a quick pull.  Steve didn’t give Natasha a chance to react before he’d sunk his fingers back into her and sucked her clit into his mouth.  He could feel the heel of her shoe as it dug into his back - something that he figured should hurt but only managed to turn him on more.  He used his free hand to pull her in closer as he curled his fingers inside of her in just the way he’d learned drove her nuts.  He flicked his tongue against her, quick and unrelenting.  Her hand pulled tight at his hair and her hips bucked against him as she let the orgasm take her over.  

Steve pulled his fingers out slow as she started to come down, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and stood up to discard his pants.  He gazed down at her, eyes dark with lust and want for her, and rubbed the head of his cock against her still swollen and slick lips.  Natasha pushed herself up and claimed his mouth with her own.  Her legs wrapped around his back as he thrusted into her slowly, teasing, and she moved to suck at his earlobe.   “How do you want me?” she asked, her voice low and husky.  

He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her easily, with his cock still buried in her.  He moved them to the closest wall and pressed her back into it.  He kept an arm around her to keep her up and grabbed one of her legs with his other and hooked it over the crook of his elbow.  With the wall behind her for resistance and the angle with her leg up the sudden shift in how deep he thrusted into her elicited a moan from Natasha.  She dug her hands into the back of his shoulders, she had no doubt he more than had a hold on her but it just felt so damn _good_ as he hit her so deeply.  

Steve gripped her tight as he set an unrelenting pace, and her end game to make him let go completely was more than met.  He didn’t see anything, feel anything, think of anything but _her._  The way she felt, the sounds that fell from her lips, the look of her as she neared the point of release with him.  It all felt so damn good that he could barely hold on.  He couldn’t see straight and all he could focus on was the pale of her skin, the red of her lips and hair - the way she looked with those lips parted in pleasure, the way they’d catch each other’s gaze, glossed over with ecstasy and barely focused. He was lost in it, completely - in the utter beauty that was Natasha Romanoff coming undone.  

Her nails dug into his shoulders, the heel of the shoe on the leg wrapped around his back, pinpricks of pain that offset the sheer pleasure of being buried so deeply inside of her.  A dichotomy that was more than welcome.  It was harder and rougher than they had ever been with each other - it was pure _need_ and _want_ , any gentle caresses and kisses forgone in their mutual desire to be completely lost in each other.  He groaned with pleasure, when her lips crashed into his shoulder and he could feel his skin caught in her teeth - which was what drove him over the edge.  He kept up his pace as best he could though until he could feel her inner walls spasm against him as she came - thankfully only a few breaths after him - with a string of Russian and his name on her lips.  They didn’t move in the aftermath, he wasn't even sure if he _could._    

When Steve finally found enough brain power to move, he gently let Natasha down to the floor but kept an arm around her to keep her upright.  He let his forehead fall to her shoulder and he took in a few ragged breaths.  He could barely see straight, let alone think - though as she said that was the whole point.  His whole body seemed to hum and he let out a content sigh against her shoulder before he pressed his lips lightly to her skin.  They were quiet for a long moment, happy to just be in that moment with each other, to dance light touches across each other’s skin in their mutual come down.  

“Feeling better?” Natasha asked in a more than slightly smug tone, when she found her voice again.  

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle softly in reply and he nodded against her shoulder.  “So much better,” he replied.  “You’re amazing,” he echoed from earlier and his lips brushed against her skin as he spoke, tasting the salt of the sheen of sweat.  He knew he was probably worse for wear, having not had a chance to hit the shower before she’d shown up after his run and then coupled with their blowing off steam.  “But if I didn’t need a shower before…” he started with another soft chuckle as he lifted his head to look at her, a smile on his lips.  “Care to join me?”

“I don’t even know if I can walk,” she answered with a small laugh of her own, which turned into a surprised squeal as Steve scooped her up into his arms easily and headed toward the bathroom.  

Once inside the bathroom he set her down and turned to get the shower going.  When he turned back around she’d kicked her shoes off and lifted a foot up to the edge of the tub to start unbuckling the stockings from the belt.  Steve’s eye followed the line of her leg up to where her hands worked on the clips and he smiled appreciatively - at least until he noticed the bruises that had started to form on her thigh from where he had gripped it, and as his eyes travelled over her body he spotted more along her hips.  Guilt overtook his features and he ducked his head as he took a few steps backwards.  

“Steve?” Natasha asked as she noticed him move back.  She pulled off the stocking and then moved toward him.  She gently cupped his face and guided him to look at her.  “Hey, talk to me,” she prodded as she took in the guilt that was still clear on his features.  His eyes darted down to her hips and she followed the gaze to see the bruising, and she spotted the ones on her leg.  Natasha looked back up, her expression soft as she took in Steve’s guilt.  “Don’t,” she said simply.  “That’s nothing, I’m fine,” she assured him.  “If it was too much, I would have told you,” she grasped his chin in her hand and tugged him to look at her again.  “You trust me, trust that I would tell you if something was too much,” she added.  “You do not feel bad about this, got me?”

Steve regarded her closely, as though looking for any hint that she was placating him.  That she was hurt, in pain, and just simply trying to absolve his guilt and she was lying that she was fine.  He couldn't find a trace though, there was nothing to be found but a gentle look and a concern that _he_ wasn’t fine.  

“Okay?” she asked gently.

Steve let out a slow breath and rested his forehead against hers.  “Okay.”  He wrapped his arms tight around her and they stood there in the tight embrace as the bathroom started to steam up with the shower running.  He  pulled back and lifted her up onto the counter.  He gently lifted her leg up and and pressed his lips lightly to the marks on her thigh before he made work of ridding her of her other stocking.  He offered her his hand to help her off the counter and watched her as she slid the garter belt off to fall at her feet on the floor.  He tugged her in closer by her arm and took a moment to kiss her, slow and languid, as he ran a hand along the bare skin of her back.  

They moved to the shower and took their time - giving all the slow teasing of drawn out touches and kisses that they hadn’t partaked in before.  Gentle and in sharp contrast to the near primal way they’d come together earlier.  As they moved together with the tender touches, and their eyes locked on one another’s as they fell apart together Steve couldn’t help the thought that maybe this was what people meant when they said making love.  That sex was sex but there was something in the way they moved right then - in how even pressed so close to each other, their hands entwined above her head as he held her up against the shower wall, it still wasn’t _close enough_ ,  the way his name sounded like a prayer on her lips and the way she looked at him like he could be enough for the rest of her days.  It was something he couldn’t define but could only feel, something that filled the dark corners of his mind, that soothed the ache of loneliness that he’d known for so long that he’d started to think it would always be there.  He felt complete in a way that he’d never thought he’d know, as her hands pulled apart all the pain and guilt - the anger that he was certain no one really knew he was even capable of. She took away all these things that he carried with him constantly and filled the spots left behind with warmth and hope.  

It was only when they were both sated once more and the water had started to cool that they emerged and wrapped themselves up in towels.  She rifled through his drawer for a t-shirt and a pair of sweats as he worked on heating up some leftovers for them.  He gave her a dopey grin when she emerged from his room. The waistband of the sweats rolled at least half a dozen times but the bottoms still dragged on the ground, her hair in damp curls and her frame tiny in the t-shirt that was more than several sizes too big for her.  “What?” she asked, amused at his amusement

“Nothing,” he said and handed her a plate of food as he moved toward the couch.  He paused before he sat and looked at her.  She was just as endearing, just as desirable in his oversized clothes and fresh from a shower as she had been in in the lace.  “You look beautiful,” he said with another grin and sat down.  

Despite herself Natasha blushed a little at the remark.  She took a moment to let it wash over her before moving to join him in the living room.  She paused behind the couch and leaned over the edge to kiss his cheek.  “Thank you,” she said softly and then moved around to sit beside him.  He’d long since given up  hope of having control of the remote and she smiled as he handed it to her the moment she sat down.  She snuggled in close to him and put her years of training to use as she balanced her plate on a bent knee and started the task of picking something for them to watch.  

With her curled into his side, his body at ease and the strain of the day more than forgotten and washed away Steve let himself give into the contentment of the moment.  So much so that the word _stay_ lingered on his lips, desperate to be spoken.  He wouldn’t though, he didn’t dare.  He knew he was ready, but he knew she still hesitated.  So he let it rattle around in the back of his mind, let it scream to be spoken but stayed quiet.  He enjoyed what she was willing and able to give and when it got late and she had to go he didn’t press, he didn’t argue.  

  
He walked her to her car as he always did, and laughed a little at the sight of her in his sweats with her heels.  “I’m amazed you can drive in those,” he said as they reached her car.

“I’m good, Rogers, but I’m not _that_ good,” she said with a laugh and opened the door.  She leaned in to grab a pair of flats from the passenger seat and shrugged a little as she gave him a grin.  She placed a hand on his arm for balance and quickly swapped out the shoes.  

“Good night, Steve,” she said gently and leaned up to kiss him.  His hands lingered on her waist as they kissed and he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear as they parted.  

 _Stay,_ his thoughts begged once more, but he echoed her words instead. “Good night, Natasha.”  He waited until her car disappeared from view before he turned and went back inside.  He’d wait.  He’d be patient.  He had to.  After all, he knew he would watch her drive away a million times if it meant she’d even been there at all in the first place.  


	3. you can hear it in the silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip to the Barton Family Homestead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's two parts to this - the idea for this chapter got a little long so I decided to break it up. I apologize for the lack of sexy times in this part but I promise there's some fun things in the next part! 
> 
> Again, a huge thank you to everyone for following along!

_You can hear it in the silence, silence_  
_You can feel it on the way home, way home_  
_You can see it with the lights out, lights out_  
  
 

The team had taken a break from training to refresh themselves and had headed into the large kitchen in the Avenger’s facility. Bottles of water had been distributed and snacks grabbed from the well stocked fridge and cupboards as the conversations between teammates went from their training session and into more light hearted subjects. Steve for his part had settled into a conversation with Wanda about a book he had recommended to her earlier in the week.

Despite their rocky start, Steve found himself fond of the young woman, and respected what she brought to the team. He was also fairly certain that she was well aware of the shift in his and Natasha's relationship, but aside from a few knowing smiles she hadn't pressed them on it for which Steve was grateful. Not that he necessarily wanted to keep it all a secret, he just knew they weren't ready for it to be public knowledge. Both he and Natasha had so much of themselves out there for others to tear apart, speculate, put into a context that never should have been there.  The relationship they’d had for the past few months now was removed from all of that - it was the place they could go and just be _themselves_ and not their public personas.  Sharing that, even just with their teammates, was daunting to both of them.

Steve had started to ramble about some plot point in the book when Wanda’s hand pressed to his arm gently and stopped him mid sentence.  He looked over at her, and then followed her eyes to where they locked onto Natasha on the other side of the kitchen.  Natasha had her phone pressed to her ear and there was a sudden concern that flashed across her face before she moved out of the kitchen entirely.

“You should go check on her, “ Wanda urged gently. Steve gave her an apologetic look for abandoning their conversation before he moved to follow Natasha.

He could hear her half of the conversation as he came upon her not too far from the kitchen area.  Her free arm was wrapped around her midsection, her brow furrowed, and his heart sank at the realization that everything about her right then screamed something was wrong.  
  
“Yeah, no, I’ll come out.  I’ll leave right away - be there as soon as I can,” she assured whoever was on the other line and then ended the call.  Steve could see the white of knuckles as she gripped the device, the big breath she took in to steady herself.

“Hey,” Steve said and moved closer to her.  He placed his hands on her arms gently and ducked his head down in an attempt to catch her eye as she kept her gaze downward.  “What’s happening?”  
  
Natasha didn’t move when he touched her, her feet planted firmly and her own arms wrapped around herself.  She knew he was trying to offer comfort, she knows that Steve is tactile - with her at least, and now at least - and that the hands on her upper arms are meant to be support, to ground her.  Right then though she just wanted to take a step back and break the contact.  She’s not good at this - accepting help - she never had been.  She’d always been more at ease as the comforter as opposed to the one receiving comfort.  Even now, as Steve looked down at her with the most sincere look of let me help you - _help_ not fix, she’d realized long ago that what made them work, even just as friends was that they never tried to fix, just help.  She felt so small right then as he towered over her with his concern - and she knew it was so silly to hate it the way she did.  It was _Steve._  He knew her better than anyone, and she knew that he would never see her fear or worry as a weakness.  So why did she still feel just that - weak.  She couldn’t help but wonder if she would always be like this, so ashamed to show that she _needed_ someone.  She wanted to collapse her weight into him, take the comfort he was so willingly offering, but she couldn’t.  She settled for not backing away, baby steps.

“It was Clint,” she explained.  “Nate’s sick, Laura took him in and they want to keep him overnight, he needs me to go out and watch the kids for them.”  She explained it like she would a mission.  Facts.  Just the facts.  A situation, and nothing about the way it ripped through her, how she felt sick with worry and fear for her youngest nephew - how all she could think about was how little he had been the last time she’d managed to sneak away to the farm for a weekend, how new to the world and how daunting the words Nate was sick really were.  

Steve watched her with careful eyes as she talked.  He immediately felt for Clint and his wife, he knew first hand the fear a sick child could illicit in a parent, he’d seen in it his own mother's’ face for most of his life.  And while there was no blood relation between Natasha and those kids, family was family, and he saw it clear as day in her own face - even though he suspected she thought she hid it well.  He supposed to most she did, but they knew each other better than most.  Her arms were still wrapped tight around herself, her fingers dug in so hard that her knuckles were white.  He didn’t want to _push_ , he knew Natasha processed at a speed of her own, that there were years of damage that had irrecoverably changed the way she dealt with certain things.  He would, however, nudge.  Which was what he did.  Steve stepped in closer to her and moved his arms to wrap around her tightly.  She was still for a moment before she tucked her head under his chin and he could feel her start to lean into the embrace.  Slowly her arms uncurled from herself and looped around him.  The sounds of the team in the kitchen filtered into the hall but they paid it no mind.  

“I’ll come with you,” he said after a quiet moment.  

“You don’t have to,” she defaulted to immediately.  It was a knee jerk reaction more than anything, and even as soon as she said it she realized she didn’t really _mean_ it.  She was just so used to denying herself the help and support she firmly believed she didn’t deserve in the first place.  

“I _want_ to,” he clarified and pulled back a little to be able to look at her.  He knew Natasha would be able to handle the situation - that’s what she _did_ , she handled things.  That didn’t mean she had to handle them on her own.  

“Clint,” she started and paused for a moment as she looked down, she felt almost ashamed to admit what she is about to admit.  Scared that Steve will read it wrong, that it will somehow devalue her intentions.  “He doesn’t know about us,” she admitted quietly.  She hoped it didn’t sound like as much of an excuse as it suddenly felt right then.   _You can’t come because he doesn’t know we’re sleeping together._  

Steve just nodded and then shrugged a little. He was surprised to hear that she hadn't told him - they had never really talked about whether or not Clint knew, Steve had just assumed she probably would have said something.  It didn’t bother him, either way.  “Does it matter?” he pointed out.  “He knows we’re still friends, Natasha, would it really seem that strange that I’d come out with you to help out?”  Maybe it would, although Steve figured Clint had other things to worry about right then anyways.  

She was quiet still and he could see the struggle behind her eyes as she weighed the options.  Finally she nodded and let herself lean back into him once more.  “Okay,” she said quietly against his chest and allowed herself one more minute of comfort there in the quiet hallway as his arms wrapped around her once more.  

“Do you need to go to your place first?” Steve asked her.

Natasha shook her head and pulled away from the embrace.  “No, I’ve got some extra clothes here.”  Whatever she didn’t have she could just raid from Laura’s drawers anyways.  “You?”

Steve nodded.  “I’ve got enough here,” he started, “I’ll go dismiss the team, get my things and meet you in the parking garage?”  His hands had settled on her arms once more and he watched her nod.  He moved to cup her face with his hands.  “It’ll be okay, Nat,” he reassured her and leaned in to brush his lips against her forehead.  It was a motion that could never be brushed off as platonic and he knew it.  He was well aware that anyone could walk in on them at any moment, but he didn’t much _care_ right then, not as much as he cared about giving her what comfort and strength he could give.

They parted ways to get themselves together and it wasn't long before they'd hit the road in one of the SUVs in the parking garage. It was a quiet drive - Natasha was more than lost in her own thoughts and worries. She hadn't even noticed the way she had started to clench her hands in her lap until one of Steve's rested softly on them. He pried at her hand gently and laced their fingers together before he gave her hand a squeeze. There were a hundred things he _could_ say - _it will be okay, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, everything will be fine_ \- but none of it was right. They weren't the kind to be placated, they lived in the reality of their situations and Steve knew it was far better to assure her he was _there_ as opposed to filling the silence with words he knew she might not believe.

Natasha glanced at him and watched him as he watched the road. Her thoughts drifted to what he had said earlier, would it be so out of place for him as her _friend_ to do this. Was this a friend action - or was this a boyfriend action. They'd drawn a line in the sand between what they were and what they weren't - but was it really there, or were they just fooling themselves.

 _Did it matter?_  Came unbidden from the back of her mind. Their lives were anything but normal, why should their place in each other's lives have to follow some arbitrary rules of what was and wasn't a relationship. Maybe it was just better to let herself for once enjoy that she had someone there. She let her head fall against the window and watched the scenery pass her by, her fingers still laced through Steve’s on the console between the seats.

They arrived late afternoon and Natasha was thankful that _you brought Captain America?_ was enough to distract Lila and Cooper while she talked with Clint as he headed out.  “What did they say, do they know anything else?” she asked as Clint gathered his things by the door.

He shook his head and Natasha could see the worry etched in his face.  “There’s an infection in his lungs, they can’t get the fever to come down…” he trailed off for a moment and paused as he held one shoe in his hand and Natasha closed the space between them to hug him tight.  She knew the worry she had was only a fraction of what Clint must have been feeling.  

She broke the contact after a minute and nudged his hand that held the shoe as she picked up his keys.  “Are you sure you don’t want Steve to drive you out?” she asked.  

Clint shook his head and looked past her into the house where Cooper and Lila beamed with excitement at the surprise house guest. There had been a quick raise of a brow when the two of them had walked in, but whatever questions he had had taken a backseat to the situation at hand. “No, let him distract the kids.”  He took his keys from Natasha.  “I’ll keep you posted,” he promised and with that he was gone.  

Natasha moved into the living room where Lila and Cooper had dragged Steve.  She leaned against the doorframe and watched as the trio sat on the couch and the kids inundated poor Steve with a million questions - Cooper looking more than a little disappointed to find out that Steve hadn’t brought the shield with him.  According to Clint the kids had been all but begging for the others to come visit again since that day in the middle of everything with Ultron - and Natasha didn’t much blame them.  She figured any kid would be hard pressed to not want the superheros their Dad knew to stop by.   

She had to give Steve credit, he kept up with the bombardment and it was sweet really, the way he seemed more than happy to humor them.  She could tell it was outside of his comfort zone - not nearly as much as it had been the first time he’d been there, but then everyone who wasn’t her had been more than a little thrown by the fact this place even existed at all.  It didn’t surprise her much, his life had never really had him in contact with many kids - he’d been an only child, he’d never had children of his own, outside of Clint no one they knew or interacted with had kids.  The fact he was content to let the kids pick his brain regardless of it being something he wasn’t used to and the way he didn’t seem to mind it much tugged at her heartstrings in a way she didn’t quite know how to define.  It picked away at her worry and anxiousness and filled her with a warmth despite the reason for the situation.  The distraction was good for Cooper and Lila too, and Natasha knew it was one she might not have been able to give as well as Steve was.  

“Hey now,” she said as she finally moved into the living room.  “I see how it is, I bring a friend and suddenly you’ve forgotten all about me,” she teased the two kids as she walked in.  She kneeled down to scoop up Lila as she ran toward her and hugged the girl in tight as Lila’s legs wrapped around her midsection.  “Hello, Solnyshko. I missed you.”  She held her for a moment, and just let herself enjoy it.  Lila was getting so big and it broke Natasha’s heart a little to know these days of picking her up like this were numbered.  

“Is Nate gonna be okay?” Lila asked as she buried her face into Natasha’s neck.  

Natasha swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and she glanced over at Steve only to find he was already watching her.  He didn’t say anything, but then he didn’t _have_ to.  Natasha could feel the quiet strength that radiated off of him and it wrapped around her from a look alone.  She was suddenly filled with such gratitude for his presence, for how it grounded her even without words and gave her the strength to press an affectionate kiss to the top of Lila’s head and reassure her.  “He’ll be okay, Solnyshko, the doctors will take very good care of him and he’ll be home before you know it,” she said softly and gave Lila one last squeeze before she let her down.  She knelt down to be at Lila’s level and offered the younger girl a warm smile as she tucked some hair out of Lila’s face.  “I know it’s scary, Lila, and that waiting for news is awful, but it’s going to be okay,” she assured her again.  “And I think Nate wouldn’t want us to drive ourselves crazy... so I was thinking we could show Steve how to make our banana chocolate chip pancakes?”

Lila glanced over at Steve still on the couch with her brother and then back at Natasha.  “We don’t have milk though, we used the last for cereal this morning,” she pointed out.  

Natasha shrugged a little.  “That’s okay, we can send the boys to go get some,” she pointed out with another smile.  She glanced over at Steve again and there was something unreadable in his expression as he watched her with Lila.  She felt angry at herself right then for having been so wrapped up in Bruce that she hadn’t paid enough attention to his reactions to it all the first time they had all been here.  When Lila had run at her after that battle did he look at her like that then too, or was that new.  Would she even had seen anything _had_ she been looking - after all, Captain America and Black Widow had been here then, not Steve and Natasha, and certainly not Steve _and_ Natasha.  She could feel her thoughts start to spiral, did he look at her with Lila and think of the children he wanted, the children she could never _give._  Did he look at her right then and hold some misguided notion that this could be them - a house, kids, the whole life beyond saving the world.  The sobering thought that hit her harder than she expected - _was she going to be holding him back from finding that._

“Is that okay?” she asked softly over Lila’s head as she forced herself from the thoughts.  She had, after all, just volunteered him to take a ten year old he’d met only once before, and briefly at that, into town and run an errand.  That part he didn’t seem to mind as he nodded.

They checked the fridge to make sure there wasn’t anything else that needed to be picked up - a good thing as there was only one egg left in the carton - and Natasha sent Steve and Cooper out with their small list and directions to the nearest store.  Lila insisted once they were gone to show Natasha everything new she had gotten since the last time she had been there, complete with a fashion show to model her new dress.  Natasha tried her best to not let herself get distracted by her own thoughts and worries.  

“Is Steve your boyfriend?” Lila asked abruptly from where she stood and pulled Natasha back into reality.  
  
“Hmm?” she asked, she glanced up from the doll she’d picked up off the floor beside her and had started idly braiding the hair of, not certain if Lila had _really_ just asked her that or if she had misheard.

“Is Steve your boyfriend?” Lila repeated and Natasha had to smile at how she didn’t even _try_ to keep the exasperation from her voice as she stood in her brand new yellow sundress, hands on her hips.

“No, Solnyshko, he’s just my friend,” Natasha replied quickly.   _Lying to a seven year old,_ she chided herself, _that’s a new low Romanoff._

“Uh huh,” Lila retorted.  

“Lila,” she prodded.  “He’s just my friend.”   _And getting defensive to a seven year old, this is a fantastic day._

Lila started to dig through a basket on her dressed filled with oversized chunky necklaces and bracelets and pulled a few over her head.  “When you get married can I be the flower girl?  Zoe in my class got to be a flower girl and she said it was fun…”  
  
Thankfully the request was cut off before Natasha had to answer by the sound of Steve and Cooper coming back into the house.  Natasha was more than content to follow Lila as she raced back down the stairs. She jumped down the last two to stand in front of Steve. “Steve, are you Auntie Nat’s - “

“Lila - “ Natasha interjected, knowing full well where the question was going. “Can you please go change out of your nice new dress, I'd hate for you to spill something on it.”  Lila seemed to debate the request for a moment and then started back up the stairs.

“I already asked him, Lila,” Cooper yelled after her suddenly.

“What did he say?” came the reply from upstairs.

“They're just friends,” Cooper yelled back up, and Natasha could hear Clint so clearly in the doubtful sarcasm Cooper’s tone.

Natasha glanced at Steve swore she could see the tips of his ears tinge pink. Cooper just looked between the two of them before he shrugged casually. “What?” he asked as he started into the kitchen.

“Kids…” Steve muttered after a long moment of silence.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh as she closed the space between them. She leaned up and brushed her lips against his lightly. “You're adorable,” she said with a teasing grin. “Undone by a ten year old’s interrogation.”

“Adorable?” Steve clarified.

Natasha nodded. “Adorable,” she said decisively.

Steve slid a hand behind her head before she could move away. “Really,” he said lightly, as though he still wasn't sure about the adjective. He tugged her in closer and leaned in, his lips brushed against her ear as he spoke. “Because I'm fairly certain you had other words last night.”  

She shivered as vivid memories of the night before flashed across her mind, the way he’d all but devoured her the moment he’d answered the door - pushed her back into the living room, how they’d barely gotten their clothes off before he’d fucked her bent over the back of the couch.  She could feel her desire for him coil in the pit of her stomach and she pressed herself in close to him as she pulled his head down to claim his lips.  She sucked in his bottom lip between hers and the soft moan he gave furthered her action.  He pushed her back against the front door and let his tongue slip into her mouth to glide over hers.  Natasha could feel her heart as it started to hammer against her chest.  It had been months but she still hadn’t gotten used to this - the way he surrounded her, the feel of being pressed between him and wherever he had pushed her up against, the way it was all _so much_ in the most amazing way.  The way she could completely lose herself in him, how he quieted all those ghosts that followed her around and made her think of nothing but _him.. them.._ how good it felt to be _wanted_ the way he wanted her.

Footsteps on the stairs paused them before they could get too far.  They immediately broke away and scrambled to put a respectable distance between them as Lila walked down the stairs and into the foyer.  She eyed the pair as she walked past and Natasha had to lift a hand to her mouth to hide the small chuckle as a blush crept across Steve’s face again.  She waited until Lila had brushed past them and then she walked back over to where he was.  “See, adorable,” she countered and gave him a teasing grin as she headed after Lila into the kitchen.

The evening passed easily enough.  Lila and Natasha worked on the pancakes. Cooper had some homework Clint had made him promise to get through and Natasha and Steve had a good laugh at the merits of “new math” when he tried to help Cooper with a few of the problems - it was as good as Greek to both of them.  Dinner was eaten and cleaned up, dishes stacked in the dishwasher.  Her phone was a constant in her back pocket and it buzzed every now and then with a quick update from Clint - nothing had gotten worse, but nothing had gotten better either.  The worry nagged at her constantly, but she found all it really took was a look at Steve and she found herself grounded enough to push past it and focus on Lila and Cooper.  And when it really got too much, when the space between texts got too long and she found herself obsessively checking, suddenly he was _there._  A soft touch on the small of her back, a quick brush of his lips against her temple if the kids weren’t looking.  She couldn’t help but wonder when had he become _that_ person - the one to ease her worry and fear, to give her strength when hers faltered.  When had she let him become so ingrained - when had having him near become something she didn’t just _want_ but _needed._  
_  
_ Popcorn was popped and put into bowls.  The kids changed into pyjamas and Natasha stole a pair for herself from Laura’s drawers.  They settled on a movie that satisfied both Lila and Cooper.  The boys had taken the couch and Natasha curled up in the large leather chair, Lila cuddled up on her lap.  It struck her, as she glanced from Lila to Steve and Cooper on the couch, how domesticated the whole thing really was.  It wasn’t a stretch for her and Steve - they did domestic things.  At least sometimes.  They tried to make dinner together when they could, they ate their meals together and spent time catching up on movies and television in addition to their more physical activities.  This was different though - this was the kind of domestic she knew she would never have.  That even her inability to have biological children aside she still couldn’t have _this._  She wasn’t Clint - her position in the world they lived in didn’t afford her the same luxuries it did him.  She had made a sort of peace with it long ago, in her own way.  She still of course had issues with what had been taken from her, what had been lost before she even had a chance to know what it meant.  But as she glanced to Cooper and Steve on the couch as they talked quietly about the movie, she realized she’d never really _wanted_ what had been taken, until then.  It was a daunting, terrifying, prospect of a thought and she chided herself for being so foolish as to have it.  Don’t want the things you can’t have, she told herself and let her fingers brush through Lila’s hair.  

The movie played on and she found herself losing focus as the day caught up with her.  Lila’s breathing evened out and it wasn’t long before the girl fell asleep where where she was curled up against Natasha.  She could see Cooper nodding off himself from the corner of her eye and she smiled softly to herself when Steve gently coerced him up to bed.  As Cooper’s footsteps echoed in the hall upstairs and she could hear his door shut, Steve moved to stand in front of her.  “I got her,” he said softly as Natasha started to move herself - he gathered Lila up in his arms, and the girl, still half asleep wrapped her arms around his neck and muttered something neither of them could make out before her head fell onto Steve’s shoulder and sleep took her over once more.  Natasha watched him carry her out - her heart at once both soared and broke with the sight of it.  

She had meant to follow them up, but the emotions that flooded over her suddenly, kept her in the chair as she tried to sort through them.  She glanced up as she heard Steve come back down the stairs and gave him a tired smile.  “Thanks for bringing her up,” she said.    
  
Steve gave her a smile back and nodded.  “Yeah, of course.”  He picked up the popcorn bowl and put it in the kitchen and then stopped the movie that they hadn’t quite finished.  He leaned against the arm of the chair and looked down at Natasha.  

The house was quiet in a way that they never got in his apartment - removed from the traffic that was always present in the city.  For the briefest of moments he allowed himself the luxury of dreaming.  He allowed himself to let his mind wander to another life they could have had, a quiet place of their own and their own kids up in bed asleep.  A life he had wanted for so long in some vague idealized version of the world “after the war”.  Dreams he had long since tucked away and tried his damndest to resolve with himself that in this life he had woken up in they would only ever be that - dreams.   _The war is over, we can go home._ The words from the vision Wanda gave him still haunted him.  The war would never _be_ over.  There was no going home, not for people like him.  The dream of a house, kids, a life without war, he’d put it aside.  An act he had been - not content with necessarily, but resigned to.  Until today.  Until the stark realization that he had been okay with knowing there were things he would never have because he’d never had someone to want them _with._

He glanced down at Natasha and smiled softly as he saw her starting to nod off in the chair.  “Come on,” he said quietly and lifted her up.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, legs around his midsection and laughed softly at the ridiculousness of the fact he was about to carry her up the stairs before she let her lips graze against the skin of his neck.  “Thank you,” she murmured.  “For everything.”  
  
Steve carried her into the spare bedroom and gently placed her down on the bed.  He stood at the edge, suddenly he felt more than a little awkward.  They’d never actually slept together, in the _sleeping_ sense of the phrase.  He knew there were reasons for that - to maintain that this wasn’t the relationship it had clearly become, to keep at least _some_ distance.  So he didn’t want to assume that just because there was only the one spare room that meant he could cross one of the few lines they still had.  Natasha reached a hand across the space between them and let it trail down his arm to grab his hand and tug him closer.  “Stay.”  
  
Steve’s breath hitched in his throat.   _Stay_ .  How long had that exact word been on the tip of his tongue.  How many nights had it begged to be spoken when she uncurled herself from his arms to leave.  How many nights had he laid awake, restless and lost and wishing she was _there._  He hesitated - not because he didn’t want to crawl into bed beside her, but because he knew he couldn’t go back from that - that it would kill him to spend tonight with her in his arms, only to never have it again.  He was nothing if not a sucker for punishment though, and he stripped out of his clothes regardless and sunk down to sit on the edge of the bed.  His mind raced, a hundred thoughts in a hundred different directions and he struggled to sort it all out.  Natasha came up behind him and slipped her arm around his neck, he lifted his hand to rest on it.  “Hey…” she said softly and rested her chin on his shoulder.  “Something wrong?”  
  
Steve shook his head.  “No, I’m fine,” he assured her.  It wasn’t a lie necessarily, it just wasn’t entirely the truth.  He had no regrets in coming out to Clint’s house and helping Natasha - he just hadn’t expected the gamut of emotions the day had brought up.  He had seen her with the kids before, watched as Lila had greeted her in much the same way - but it had been different today.   _They_ were different, and it had brought up more than he had bargained for.  Things he hadn’t thought of in a long time, things he knew was supposed to feel, it all crashed down on him and he felt a little lost in the weight of it - and as he caught her eye as he turned his head to look at her he could see that it weighed on her as well.    
  
He briefly entertained the idea that the day had brought up things they _should_ talk about, but so much of it all was things he didn’t know _how_ to talk about.  Was it right to even ask if she had ever thought of a life like Clint’s for herself if he knew it could never be with him.  He searched her eyes and the sudden, intrusive thought that maybe he would hold her back.  That Natasha would want things he couldn’t give.    
  
She leaned in and kissed him softly before she moved to lay back down in the bed.  She tugged on his arm once more and Steve shifted to lay beside her.  His hand brushed against her cheek lightly and then his arm curled around her and pulled her in close.  She lifted herself up a little so Steve could slip his other arm underneath her neck.  Her legs slid in between his, her hands curled up against his chest.  “Natasha - “ he started.  
  
“Mmmhmm?” she mumbled, half asleep.    
  
_Are you happy - do I make you happy - do you want kids - will I keep you from the life you want - I love -_  He didn’t even know what to say.  Maybe it was selfish, to not want to question her right then.  Maybe it made him an awful person to just want to ignore all those thoughts that gathered in the back of his mind and just _be_ with her, for as long as she would let him.  “Goodnight,” he said finally.  
  
“Night Steve,” she mumbled back and he could hear her breathing even out.  He tightened his arms around her a little and let his eyes fall closed.  He knew it would all still be there in morning, tonight he wanted to be selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solnyshko - Russian term of endearment, small sun


	4. you can feel it on the way home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip to the Barton Family Homestead Part Two!

_You can hear it in the silence, silence_  
_You can feel it on the way home, way home_  
_You can see it with the lights out, lights out_

 

“See… I  **told** you,” Lila said, and it was clear she was trying to be quiet but her insistence to prove her brother wrong caused her voice to come out as more of a stage whisper than an actual whisper.     
  
Steve peered one eye open to look at the pair standing beside the bed.  His arms were still wrapped around Natasha, her back to his front and she moved to bury her face in the pillow - as though to protest being awoken.  “Told him what?”  Steve asked, an amused tone to his voice.

The two Barton kids glanced quickly between each other and started to laugh.  “Nothing,” they both said quickly in unison and Steve nodded with a doubtful expression.  

He gently untangled himself from Natasha and moved to sit up on the edge of the bed.  He looked between Lila and Cooper.  “How about we go start some breakfast and let your Aunt Nat sleep a little bit more?” he asked.  The kids nodded and Steve smiled a little.  “I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute.”

Steve waited until he heard Lila and Cooper head down the stairs before he laid back down beside Natasha. She lifted her head up to rest her chin on her hands and looked over at him. He chuckled softly and then rolled into his back, hands laced behind his head.

“What?” Natasha asked in an amused tone. 

“Just never imagined that when we finally spent the night together we'd be woken up by a couple of kids,” he answered and let his head fall to the side to look at her with a lazy grin. 

“Are you saying you're dissatisfied with your wake up call, Rogers?” She asked cheekily as she moved to lay on top of him. Her hands pressed to the sides of his face and she kissed him - slow and lazy, a way more than befitting of the morning. “Because I can think of a few alternatives if you wanted a redo.”  She started to trail her lips down his neck and smiled, satisfied, against his skin as he moaned.    
  
“Natasha…” he said lowly in as much protest as he was capable of right then.   
  
“Yes, Steve?” She replied teasingly as she kept her lips moving downward.     
  
“The kids are downstairs,” he pointed out and moved to gently grab her wrists as her hands started to trail down his sides.     
  
“Downstairs being the keyword there,” Natasha pointed out but stopped none the less and moved to fold her arms against his chest so she could rest her chin on them and look up at him. Steve let an arm fall lightly across her back and the other moved to rest against his own forehead.     
  
“The last thing I need is to have an awkward conversation with Barton before we leave about how his children came up to find us in a compromising position,” Steve countered with a soft laugh.  

“I thought you loved compromising positions,” Natasha teased back.

“Not when it involves my teammate’s children,” he said and huffed a laugh.  Alright, so maybe it wasn’t the wake up call he had imagined, but this was still pretty damn nice he thought.  Even though he knew he had told the kids he’d be right down there was still a level of ease to the morning, the feeling of having nowhere to be and not much to do.  So unlike the ticking time bomb of her leaving usually was when they were in bed together.  It didn’t feel like he was just waiting with baited breath for the moment she’d decide the intimacy was too much and go.   
  
Natasha grinned a little and let her fingers dance along the stubble that had grown in a little along his jaw.  “Did you sleep okay?” She asked.  His eyes were still half closed and she found herself enthralled by the dark of his lashes against his skin, the way his whole demeanor seemed to relax in way she’d never quite seen before.

Steve turned his head into her touch and smiled warmly at the question.  “Yeah, I did.”  Better than he had in ages and he knew that was no coincidence.  He wasn’t sure if that was something he was allowed to say as opposed to just feel though, so he left the thought as just that.  A thought.  Her hand moved to his that rested on his forehead and they laced their fingers together.  Steve pressed a kiss to the soft skin of the inside of her forearm.  She let out a soft sigh and Steve’s resolve to not be found in a compromising position by his teammate’s children started to buckle.  She moved to sit up and he followed her lead, his arms wrapped tight around her midsection as she straddled his lap.  

His mouth found hers and his grip on her tightened as her tongue slipped between his lips.  She grinded against his lap and she gripped the short hair at the back of his neck.  Natasha weighed how quick they could be (when they  _ wanted _ , which was rare but known to happen) with the attention span she knew Lila and Cooper had and debated if they had the time.  She didn’t get that far though before a crash from downstairs and a loud “LILA!” startled them both.  Steve pulled away and glanced toward the door, as though he could see what had happened from there, a move that caused Natasha to chuckle.  She reluctantly crawled off of Steve and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before she grinned.  “You should go look into that,” she suggested.

“Oh  _ I  _ should, should I?” Steve replied with a laugh and allowed himself to steal one more lazy kiss before he pressed a soft one to her forehead.  “Come down when you’re ready,” he offered.  He knew it’d been a rough day and a bit for her, he could handle two kids while she took her time in the shower and getting ready.  “I’ll have the coffee ready,” he promised and moved out of the room.

It was only about twenty minutes later when Natasha emerged into the kitchen.  She paused in the doorway and couldn’t help the smile at the sight before her.  Lila had dragged her stool over to the counter and stood beside Steve - the pair worked on cracking eggs into a bowl and then adding some milk before Lila insisted on being the one to whisk it together.  Cooper set the table and had started explaining the finer points of who shot first to Steve - obviously the answer was Han.  

“And here I thought you never listened to me when I went on about it,” Natasha joked as she moved into the kitchen.  She took a moment to ruffle Cooper’s hair when he looked up at her, only because he was ten and she knew he had started to hate it the way most ten year olds hated anything kid like.  She reached up on her toes to grab her favorite mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee before she leaned against the counter near Steve and Lila.  “What are we making?” She asked before she took a drink of coffee - extra strong, the way she knew Steve knew she liked it.

“French toast,” Lila answered proudly.  

“Sounds perfect, Solnyshko.”

Steve helped Lila dip the bread and then they set about setting the pieces onto the hot griddle.  Natasha laughed at Lila’s amazed expression when the batter covered bread sizzled as it met the heat.  She took a few more sips of her coffee and then quickly moved about the kitchen to set out the maple syrup, juice and some fruit.  By the time she got that done Steve was putting slices of french toast onto the plates and the four sat down to eat. 

They settled into conversation as they ate, and it wasn’t long before most of the food had been all but devoured.  The sound of the phone ringing from where it hung on the wall suddenly cut through and Natasha got up to answer.  Steve looked up from his plate and while he couldn’t hear her much over the noise of Lila and Cooper talking, the sudden relief that showed on her face was enough to know the call was a good one.  The weight she had been carrying since the prior afternoon seemed to lift a little and Steve was glad to see it.

“Lila, Cooper, your Mom wants to talk to you,” Natasha said after a few minutes of talking to Laura and handed the phone to the kids at the table.  

Steve watched Natasha as she wrapped her arms around herself and moved toward the back end of the kitchen after handing off the phone.  He got up from his chair and moved over to her.  “Hey, everything’s good?” He asked.

Natasha nodded.  “Yeah, they got everything under control and they’ll be releasing him soon,” she answered.  She tried to smile but it fell short and Steve instantly recognized the look on her face - the realization just  _ how _ terrified of something you had been now that everything was okay.  So he pulled her in and hugged her tight.  She gave in easier than she had just yesterday in the hallway, and was quick to wrap her arms around his midsection and let herself lean into the strength of his embrace.  Steve threaded his fingers through her hair with one hand and kept the other wrapped tight around her shoulders.  He didn’t speak, he didn’t  _ have _ to.  It was enough to just stand there with her and give her a safe place to put herself back together.  

“Uncle Steeeeeeeeeeeve!” Lila and Cooper yelled from the table after a moment and promptly disintegrated into a laughing fit.  

Natasha laughed, the sound muffled by Steve’s chest, and Steve turned his head back to look at the kids, but didn’t let go of his hold on Natasha.  “Mom wants to talk to you,” Cooper added and held the phone out for Steve.  

“You better go get that Uncle Steve,” Natasha said and gave him a teasing grin as they pulled apart.  She discreetly wiped at the corner of her eye and nodded when Steve looked down at her with concern.  “I’m okay,” she assured him.  He took a quick moment to brush his lips against her forehead and gave her shoulders a soft squeeze with his hands.

Steve moved back to the table and took the phone from Cooper.  He wasn’t exactly sure why Laura would want to talk to him, but who was he to deny her.  “Hello?” He said as he moved into the living room so he could hear better as the kids had started chatting excitedly to Natasha about their little brother coming home soon.  

“Hey, Uncle Steve,” Laura greeted, clearly amused by the new moniker. 

“Your kids are hilarious,” Steve replied and huffed a short laugh.  “How are you and Clint holding up?”

“Better now,” Laura answered and despite the relief in her tone at the moment, Steve could hear the worry still.  He didn’t much blame her.  He couldn’t imagine how terrifying it must be to see your child sick.  

“I’m glad to hear he’s on the mend though,” Steve returned sincerely.  

“Thank you, Steve,” there was a small pause on Laura’s end before she spoke again.  “How’s our girl doing?” 

Steve ducked his head with a soft smile at the way Laura put it - and made a mental note that while Clint might still be in the dark, clearly Laura wasn’t.  He wondered if this was the subtle way of her giving approval, including him in this little family unit that Natasha had found for herself.  A warmth crept through him at the idea of it, chipped away at that sense of loneliness that still lingered a little even with how Natasha had started to move herself into the bits of himself that felt more lost than he’d ever be able to admit.  He couldn’t help the quick dart of his eyes to where Natasha had settled back at the table with Lila and Cooper, her face open and warm with a laugh at something Cooper had said to her.  He loved her.  He knew that.  Somewhere between the aliens, running a strike team, the fall of SHIELD and killer robots she had worked her way into his heart and made him want in ways he never had before.  As much as they tried to keep what was between them nothing serious he had broken his part of that somewhere along the line, maybe before they’d even started this whole thing.  The realization that he’d been a topic of conversation between her and Laura was the first time Steve dared to hope that maybe he wasn’t alone in feeling more than he was supposed to.

“She’s - she’s okay, Laura,” he assured her.  “You know Natasha, she was a little bit more freaked out than she’d ever let on,” he expanded, “but she’s doing alright now.”

“I'm glad you came out with her, Steve,” Laura said sincerely. 

“I'm glad she  _ let  _  me come out with her,” he replied. 

“Laur - we need to go - “ Steve could hear Clint over the line. 

“Be right there - “ Laura addressed Clint before she spoke to Steve again. “The doctor needs to meet with us,” she explained. “They're discharging Nate soon, we’ll be home later this afternoon.”  She laughed softly, “see you soon, Uncle Steve.”

Steve chuckled. “Bye Laura, dive safe.”

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. It was a warm fall day and Steve and Natasha spent most of the afternoon chasing the kids around the yard. Now that the worry over Nate had passed, it felt more like it usually did for Natasha - a mini vacation from the very real horrors of her own life. It was easy to forget when she was out here, easy to forget who and what she was - that the world was a terrible place with terrible people who did terrible things. The Barton homestead felt untouched by that somehow. It left her feeling younger, freer, able to let go and just  _ enjoy _ herself in ways she’d never been able to even in her own childhood.

And as she watched Steve chase after Lila and Cooper she realized he felt it too.  He’d never gotten the chance to really  _ be _ here the last time - things had been too crazy with Ultron and the world falling apart around them.  Now though there was a lightness to his laugh as he ran around with Lila on his shoulders that Natasha had never really heard before. Thoughts suddenly came to her - Thanksgiving just around the corner, Christmas. Where he would fit in. What Clint would say if she just showed up with him in tow again.   _ Plans _ , she realized. She was making plans. Plans were not what they did. What  _ she  _ did. 

She felt overwhelmed by the weight of it all and moved back into the house to clear her head.  She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.  She could see Steve still running around out back with the kids from the window above the sink and she tried to put her emotions into some semblance of order.  She had always known she felt  _ something _ for Steve - she just had never expected how complicated that would get.  Bruce had been easy, in a way.  She’d always known he would leave her.  That’s why she had been attracted to him in the first place.  He would only prove her right - love was for children.  Steve though - Steve was different.  And that terrified her.

Natasha took a drink as she watched Steve make a grand show of falling to the ground when Cooper tackled him.  She couldn’t help but think that he should have that.  A family, a life.  A woman who could provide him with so much more than she ever could.  The guilt of it picked away at her and she felt like the worst kind of selfish right then.  She was using him.  She used him to make herself feel more human, more connected, more like a real person and not just fragments left behind by the people who had made her.  She did all that and kept him from being able to find someone who would give him what he truly deserved.

“Natasha?” 

Laura's voice as she called into the kitchen pulled Natasha from her thoughts. She quickly pushed past it and let a smile cross her features as she turned to look at Laura. The other woman set the car seat that contained Nate down as she walked in and then moved to hug Natasha. “Hey, I'm so glad Nate’s okay,” Natasha said before they parted. She knelt down as she heard him start to whimper from his seat and unbuckled him from the contraption to pick him up. “You gave us quite the scare, traitor,” she said to Nate with a soft smile and then brought him to her chest. 

Laura watched her with a smile and leaned against the edge of the counter. “So, Steve came with you?” Laura prompted. 

Natasha gave her a look. “It’s not what you think it is,” she said evenly.  Laura had been hinting for weeks now that maybe Steve and Natasha’s arrangement of friends who just happened to be sleeping together had turned into something more.  Natasha had spent just as long trying to convince her she was wrong at every turn.

“Would that be so bad, Nat,” Laura prodded gently.  “If it was?”  

Natasha hummed lightly to Nate who started to fuss again and pressed her lips lightly to to the top of his head.  He was getting bigger but still had that undefinable baby smell and felt impossibly small pressed to her chest.  She debated Laura’s question - which in and of itself was a problem because it shouldn’t be a debate.  It should be a clear cut answer.  “Yes,” she insisted after a minute.  “You know it would be.”  Love was for children - children and people who weren’t  _ her _ .  For people who weren’t broken in some irrecoverable way that tainted every bond she tried to form with people.  She was better alone - always had been and always would be. 

“Natasha…” Laura started and pushed herself off the counter to move toward her friend.  “You know that’s not true,” she added gently. 

“Do I?” Natasha countered, almost a dare for Laura to tell her otherwise.  

Laura didn't get a chance to answer before Natasha's eyes darted to where Steve walked into the kitchen.  He stopped as he looked at her holding Nate and Natasha’s stomach dropped as that same indescribable  _ look _ passed over his features - the same one he’d had when he’d watched her and Lila the previous day.  Natasha suddenly felt her face burn and she tucked her forehead against the top of Nate’s head to hide it.  She could hear Laura greet Steve and the two chat, but she kept her stance to avoid having to look at either of them.  She was more than glad for the distraction when Clint barreled in with Cooper and Lila.  

Natasha didn’t much get the time to revisit the thoughts in too much depth.  The chaos of Nate coming back home, the other kids chatting Laura and Clint’s ear off.  They’d made an early dinner and then Steve and Natasha had to hit the road back.  

They’d fallen into a comfortable - if tense, although Natasha wasn’t convinced that wasn’t just her - silence on the ride.  Some cd that had happened to be in the vehicle played softly, something soft and folky that didn’t demand attention.  The sunk had started to sink low along the horizon.  Natasha watched the scenery as it passed and chewed a rough spot on the inside of her lip.  Her mind still felt a mess and she  _ loathed _ it.  She was usually better at sorting her thoughts out than this - but then Steve had always had a way of throwing her for a loop.  Finally she looked over at Steve.

“Do you want kids?” She blurted out before she’d really thought it through.  She could see the suddenness of the question take him by surprise and shifted in her seat before she shrugged.  “I mean, if you found some nice girl - or if I found you some nice girl because let’s face it Rogers, you’re hopeless - got married, you know, the whole - thing.”  Apparently she had forgotten how to form coherent sentences somewhere along the line. 

Steve’s grip on the wheel tightened a bit and Natasha could see the tension set in across his face.  She immediately regretted the question and was about to tell him to forget it when he started to slow the SUV and pulled over into a turnout.  She looked up at him, the confusion evident on her face.  “What are you doing?”

Steve turned the engine off and unbuckled his seatbelt so he could shift in his seat to look at her.  “Don’t,” he said plainly. 

“Don’t what?” Natasha asked, a brow raised.

Steve shook his head and let his eyes fall downward.  “Don’t talk about me finding some nice girl, or you finding me some nice girl,” he started.  He looked up at her.  “Just, don’t.  Look, Natasha, I get it.  This - us, you and me - it is what it is,” he shrugged a little at that.  “And I’m okay with that.  I don’t need to call you my girlfriend, or for us to announce to the whole damn world what we’re doing,” he paused to cup her face in his hands.  He searched her eyes for a moment and then continued.  “But I’m  _ here _ , I’m with  _ you _ .  So don’t act like this is me just biding my time until I find some other girl, and I swear to God, Natasha, if you start trying to set me up again...” He trailed off with a bit of a smile.  “Okay?”

Natasha nodded.  “Okay.”  She wasn’t sure if it was, okay, but she  _ wanted  _ it to be.  Wanted it more than anything right then.  Even if she couldn’t quite shake that guilt that had lingered, the voice of self doubt that crawled up the back of her mind and ate away at her resolve.

It seemed to satisfy Steve though and he dropped his hands back to his lap.  He looked down at them and debated his next words.  He’d admitted it to Tony, but that had been different.  There was a fear that coiled in the pit of his stomach that admitting it to Natasha would change things.  That while maybe he wasn’t bidding his time with her until he found someone to settle down with,  _ she _ was.  Maybe she would realize with what he was about to say that he could never give her way she wanted and that would be it.  This whole thing would be over and he would have to attempt to go about their lives as separate entities again - but it would be so much worse than before because now he knew what it was like to be with her.  Not just the sex, though he had no complaints on that part, the little things.  The way she would curl into his side, the way she took care of him and filled up all those empty spaces in his life.  They way she laughed when she really meant it, the great capacity she had for warmth and affection that he sometimes thought she didn’t even realize herself.  

But he needed to be fair.  

“As for the other part,” he started, “I used to.  I don’t anymore.”  The more he’d thought of it lately though he had started to wonder if he ever  _ really _ had - or he just had because that was what you  _ did.   _ You fought in the war, you found a girl, you came home and you had a family.  That’s what their parents did, that’s what they would do.  He had started to wonder if the war would have ever been over, even back then, for him.     


“Why not?” Natasha asked.  “You’d be a great father,” she said with all the confidence in the world at her words. 

Steve looked at her and shook his head with a dry laugh.  “No, I wouldn’t,” he countered.  He paused and ran his hands against the leather of the steering wheel.  He’d never talked about this before - not outside the very short conversation with Tony.  “I can’t do what I do and have someone relying on me back home,” he said plainly.  It was easier to remove the emotion from it.  Steve knew he had given up a lot to become who he was, things he hadn’t even realized at the time he would be giving up.  “Clint - “ he dropped his hands and looked back at Natasha.  “Clint can walk away.  I can’t.  There’s no retirement plan for being Captain America,” he elaborated and offered Natasha a wry smile.  He watched her as his words sunk in - but she could be so damn unreadable sometimes and this was one of them.  He let out a slow breath and glanced out the front window.  “You?”  He didn’t  _ want _ to know, but he knew he  _ had _ to.     
  
She took a moment to undo her own seatbelt and tucked her legs underneath her as she turned to the side to face him.  She knew she could lie - she could spin some explanation in line with his (which really  _ wouldn’t _ be a lie, his thoughts on the matter were eerily close to her own and she tried not to let herself think about it too much, or how the knowing she wasn’t going to be holding him back from something flickered a warmth through her), but she didn’t want to lie.  She could easily see that his own bout of honesty had not been the easiest thing for him, he deserved hers in return.  They were partners.  That’s what partners did.  

“I - I can’t - “ she started and paused to swallow hard.  “Have kids,” she glanced down at her hands, fingers clenched together and she hated how ashamed of this she felt.   _ You’re not the only monster on the team _ .  How lost had she gotten that she felt this made her a  _ monster _ .  It didn’t, she  _ knew _ that.  She had found other ways to give life to counter the death she had handed out.  She saved people, she gave her all to three kids who she loved as much as if they were her own blood.  What the Red Room did to her did not make her a monster - she just wished she could  _ believe _ that in addition to  _ knowing _ it. She didn’t want to be this person who was terrified that telling Steve what happened to her would sully the way he looked at her.  “The Red Room, they made sure of that.  The last thing they needed was one of their girls to get in a position where they had something to walk away for,” she explained.  

Steve knew a little of what Natasha had been through.  When Fury had enlisted him for The Avengers Initiative he’d of course read the files of his future teammates.  Hers had been the hardest to get through.  He knew what was in it and the little she had shared over the years.  He knew enough to know that the people responsible for making Natasha had been nothing short of sadistic bastards and it was a damn good thing they were all either dead or lost to the four corners of the earth - a damn good thing for _ them  _ at least.  And as this new revelation hung between them he could feel his jaw set in the  _ anger _ at it, at the realization of just  _ how much _ they had taken from her.  He slid a hand between hers and laced their fingers together.  His other hand moved to brush his thumb against her cheekbone.  “I’m sorry, Nat,” he said sincerely.  Sorry for the decision that had been taken from her before she had even been allowed to make it.  

She turned her face a little into his touch and let her eyes cast upward to meet his.  There was nothing changed in the way he looked at her, and it made her heart race.  Nothing had changed.  She lifted a hand to rest against hers on his face and just allowed herself a moment there.  “Thank you,” she said after her moment and gave him a soft smile.     
  
“You still could though, Natasha,” he pointed out.  “There’s more than one way to have kids,” especially these days.  

“I know,” she said softly and gave a small shrug of her shoulders.  “I don’t think I would though,” she admitted.  “I can’t do what I do and have someone relying on me back home,” she echoed his earlier words and smiled a little.  “I think my retirement plan is wherever your retirement plan is,” she added on.  Natasha knew she wasn’t Steve, that her body wouldn’t last the way his would, but she still didn’t have a dream of that day when she’d quit.  Logically she knew she’d probably die in the middle of some fight before that even become an option.  And if she managed to get that far - well - the house and kids, the whole thing, still didn’t seem like the life she’d fall into.     
  
“Nothing wrong with that,” he assured her and smiled.     
  
The tension she had felt earlier lifted as the ramifications of their conversation sunk in.  She wasn’t holding him back.  What she couldn’t give was something he didn’t want.  She tugged at him to bring him in closer and kissed him.  He slipped a hand around her arm and gently pulled her across the console to his lap.  Her knees pressed into the seat on either side of him, her hands laced around his neck and his slid up the back of her shirt as their kiss turned heated.  Charged with the intimacy of their conversation, the honesty of their words and both of them letting go of the fear that they had carried.  Natasha grinded against his lap and elicited a moan from Steve.  She broke apart just enough to speak and grinned wickedly.  “I just realized something,” she stated and let her lips drag across his jaw line.

“Oh yeah?” Steve prompted, his hands pressed tighter into the smooth skin of her back as she hit a particularly sensitive spot.   
  
“You’ve never had sex in a car,” she pointed out and sucked his earlobe between her lips.

Steve hissed at the sudden stimulation and then chuckled a little.  “That an offer?” 

“Damn right it’s an offer,” she all but purred into his ear before she moved to kiss him again.  She could feel him harden against her and she rolled her hips to keep the pressure.  Her hands moved deftly between them and undid the buckle of his belt and buttons of his jeans.  She slid a hand around his cock and ran her thumb along the head.  

Steve broke the kiss as his head fell back against the seat and he let out a moan.  “Jesus, Nat,” he muttered and then all but whined at the sudden loss of contact as she moved back across the console after a minute.  

Natasha quickly shed her jeans and underwear and then moved back to her spot on Steve’s lap.  She slipped a hand between them and guided him into her, their lips tangled in an open kiss.  She rolled her hips gently as she took a moment to adjust - she would never get used to this, how much he filled her, the way he felt inside of her.  How it wasn’t just the physicality of it, there was something  _ more _ .  Being like this with him wasn’t just sex, but the natural evolution of the bond that they had started to form after Fury had partnered them.  She had come to  _ crave _ it, come to realize that having sex with Steve was being able to tell him all the things she wanted to say without having to  _ say  _ them.     
  
She kept his gaze as she started to move, her knees pressed into the seat gave her the leverage to ride him.  His hands moved to her hips, but he didn’t try to lead her movements.  This was all her and he knew it.  Natasha’s hands moved to grab at the top of the seat as she deepened her movements.  She moaned as the angle shifted and he hit her just that little bit more as she ground down against him.  Steve’s head fell back against the headrest again, his eyes fluttered closed as his breath started to come in ragged gasps.  He moved one of his hands between them to rub his thumb against her clit.     
  
Natasha dragged her lips along the front of his throat, exposed with his head tilted back.  It was a bit awkward, there wasn’t as much space as they really  _ needed _ , given that Steve took up most of it himself, and her back hit the steering wheel more than a few times.  But it didn’t much matter to either of them.  Natasha kept her rhythm going and could feel herself getting closer to the edge with his thumb working her clit.  She shifted against him, trying to get closer if that was even possible, but then stopped dead in her tracks as a flicker of lights caught her eye.  Red and blue lights. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” she hissed and all but jumped off Steve and back to her own seat.  She scrambled back into her clothes as Steve struggled to catch up to what had just happened.  He noticed the lights in the rearview and quickly buttoned himself back up.  He’d barely gotten himself back together before they heard the rap of the officer’s flashlight against the window.  Natasha pulled her knees up to her chest and steeled herself into a neutral expression.   
  
Steve pushed the button to lower the window and hoped he didn’t look like as frenzied as he felt.  “Evening,” he said and tried to keep his tone even.

“Mind showing me your license and registration?” The officer asked as he glanced between Steve and Natasha.     
  
Steve shook his head.  “Not at all,” he said and Natasha handed him his jacket before she moved to dig through the glove box.  Steve pulled out his license and took the registration card when Natasha offered it and gave them to the officer.  “Something wrong?” He asked.

“No, just saw you pulled over and wanted to make sure you didn’t need me to call for a tow truck or anything,” the officer replied as he shone his light on the identification.  He glanced back to Steve and seemed to go a little wide eyed as the recognition sunk in.  “Uh - sorry - didn’t mean to bother you, Captain Rogers,” he stammered out.  Steve could  _ feel  _ the smirk as Natasha ducked her head to her knees.   
  
“No bother, officer,” Steve assured him.  He took back his cards when the officer handed them over.  He shifted the jacket in his lap, keenly aware that it wouldn’t take much more than a glance for the officer to clue into what he had  _ actually _ interrupted.  “We appreciate you taking the time to check in on us, don’t we Romanoff?” He added on and nudged Natasha with his elbow.  If he was going to have to do the awkward conversation thing, so was she.     
  
Natasha looked up at the officer and gave him the warmest smile.  Steve had no clue how she did that.  Play a part so perfectly while he wanted nothing more than to sink into the seat and die of embarrassment.  “Of course we do.”   


The officer seemed to like that and beamed a little.  He fumbled for a notebook from his pocket and a pen and looked at the pair sheepishly.  “Hey, if it’s not too much to ask, could I get an autograph for my kid, he loves you guys.”   
  
Steve took the pen and pad.  “It’s the least we could do,” he assured the officer.  “What’s your son’s name?”   
  
“Elliott,” the man answer.  “Two L’s, two T’s,” he elaborated.   
  
Steve quickly jotted something down and then handed the pad to Natasha.  She added her own name to the bottom and then leaned across Steve to hand the pad back to the officer.  “Thank you again for checking on us.  We’re just waiting for a call and thought it best to pull over,” she offered for explanation.  The last thing she wanted was to have him offer to call them a tow truck.  

That seemed to satisfy the officer and he gave the two of them a friendly smile.  “Alright.  Well, thanks - for the autograph, he’s going to flip.  You two have a nice night,” he nodded at them and headed back to his car.  

Natasha watched him in the side mirror and once the car passed them and out of sight she broke out into laughter.  “I thought you were about to have a heart attack, Rogers,” she teased.  She kept laughing as he shot her a look.  “And that autograph?  Elliott, your Dad’s the real hero, Captain America,” she added in.  

“I'm glad you’re so amused,” Steve countered dryly, but couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all himself.     
  
“You’re such a boy scout,” she pointed out with another teasing grin, but moved to lean across the console and bring her lips to the side of his neck.  Her hand trailed down the front of his chest and her fingers curled around his jacket before she tossed it to the backseat.  She groped at him over his jeans and grinned a little against the skin of his neck to find that he was still more than hard.  She undid his pants once more and wrapped a hand around his length to stroke him as she found his mouth with hers again.  His hands threaded through her hair and he moaned into her mouth at her touch.  She broke off the kiss and shifted so that she could half lay across the console and wrap her lips around his cock.  

“God that feels so good, Natasha,” he breathed out as his fingers flexed in her hair, tightening around the strands.  She bobbed her head up and down and alternated between a fast and slow pace, her tongue darted out to run along the top of his head and then she brought him back into her mouth fully.  She looked up and caught his eye.  Steve’s hips buckled up at the sight of her, those full lips wrapped around his length, her eyes locked to his, and he could feel himself start to unravel.  “So close, Nat, so close,” he mumbled and let his head fall back against the seat once more, too lost in the pleasure that shuddered through his body.  His body trembled as he reached the point of release and he loosened his grip on the back of her head - not wanting to force her to keep her lips wrapped around him as he came, but she stayed there none the less and her name rolled off his own lips as she ran her tongue along him once he had come.  Every inch of his body felt on fire and he breathed heavily as he started to come down from the feel of it all.  

Natasha rested her head against his stomach and let him take a few moments to come down.  It was only when his hand started to lightly run through her hair that she buttoned up his jeans again and did up his belt.  She lifted herself up to look at him and smiled at the very satisfied, dopey, grin he gave her.  His hand moved behind her neck and he pulled her in for a lazy kiss.  “Amazing, you’re so amazing, Natasha,” he said as they parted, and it still came out in a slight mumble which she laughed softly at.

“You can show me just how much later,” she noted with another smile and gave him a quick kiss before she settled back into her seat.  “You gonna be okay to drive over there?” She teased with a smug grin.     
  
“Just yell if I start heading toward any trees,” Steve joked and started the car back up before he maneuvered them back onto the road.

Later that night - after he had  _ more _ than shown her just how amazing he thought she was - Natasha laid contently in his arms.  Their naked limbs a tangle between the sheets and she pressed soft kisses to the bare skin of his chest where she laid.  There was the sound of rain hitting the windows, and she felt like they were in their own little world in the warmth of his bed.  His hand traced shapes down her back and she nuzzled herself in closer to his warmth.  

“Natasha?” He spoke out softly.

“Mmmm?” She mumbled against his side.     
  
There was a short pause and she could feel him tense a little at what he was about to say.  She frowned a little at it and immediately worried about what he was about to bring up.     
  
“Stay.” He asked gently, cautiously.  He knew this would be different.  This would be a choice and not something they could justify by lack of other sleeping options.  More than that he knew he was asking her to do more than just simply stay the night.  Stay was a loaded request.  They both knew that.

She swallowed and could feel her own heart pound against her chest.   _ Stay.   _ It was such a small word with such a big meaning.  She lifted her head to look up at him, the subtle trepidation in his eyes, the worry that he had asked her to do something she couldn’t do - and the hope that maybe he had asked her something she  _ would _ do.  Natasha leaned up to claim his lips with hers.  She knew then her answer and she pulled away to smile at him.  “Okay.”  A small pause.  “I’ll stay.”


	5. wait up i'm coming home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation about Bucky is inspired by the original script from TWS, the specific part can be found [here](http://snakefeathers.tumblr.com/post/88498702252/i-will-literally-never-get-over-the-original%22)

 

 _And darling, when your feet are cold_  
_Wait up, I'm coming home_  
_And all of you, I will hold_  
_My love will clothe your bones  
[Josh Record - Bones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtTxr48YOmM)_

“I’ll be back before you know it,”  He said when they’d slipped into an empty room in the Avengers’ facility.  There hadn’t been time to go anywhere else to say goodbye properly before he and Sam had to leave.  Steve had found a lead - a small lead, but Natasha knew there really wasn't such a thing as small for Steve when it came to Bucky.  Natasha debated insisting on going along, but as much as she wanted to she knew she couldn’t.  Someone had to stay with the rest of the team, and she could see the struggle Steve had at even leaving in the first place - torn between his duty to the Avengers and his friend.  Natasha knew the best thing she could do right then to help him was to stay, that he’d have one less thing to worry about if he knew she was handling the team.  She hated it, but it was what it was.  

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” she said evenly as her hands curled around the edges of his jacket, the zipper digging into her skin.  

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve said dryly.

“Right, of course not,” Natasha bantered back doubtfully and then stepped in closer to him to rest her forehead against his chest.  She knew Steve took risks, hell she took half of them with him.  This felt different though - she wouldn’t be there to save his ass if it went south.  And while she trusted Sam to do that, it still wasn’t the same.  This was the first time he’d be going out without her since they’d started being intimate with each other and Natasha was having trouble with how much that bothered her.  She knew it was silly - it was Steve, he could handle himself and then some.  It was just always easier to separate her feelings from the equation when she was knee deep in the fight herself.  It was easier when it was anything else but Bucky - and that nagging voice in the back of her mind that wasn’t sure if it wouldn't be better if he found nothing at all.

“I’ll be okay, Nat,” he assured her and pressed his lips to the top of her head.  He rubbed a hand along her arm and then wrapped his around her tightly.  He could practically _feel_ the tension that radiated off her.  He pulled back and tilted her chin up to look at him with his thumb.  “ _You_ going to be okay?” He asked quietly. The sudden guilt that pulled at him was hard to swallow as he looked at her.  
  
Natasha nodded.  This was stupid.  She knew it was stupid.  She was better than _this._  She leaned up on her toes and captured his mouth with his to try to force the thoughts from her mind.  She hadn’t _meant_ for it to come out as desperate as it did, for the way her hands pulled at his jacket and the way she pressed herself into him as though even the smallest of space between them was still too much.  He didn’t seem to mind though as his hands moved to behind her head and kissed her back just as desperately. Raw, weighted. The first time that goodbye didn't mean see you tomorrow, that goodbye could _really_ mean goodbye. Neither of them had been prepared for it.

Steve pulled back first, his hands moved a little so that his thumbs could run along her cheekbones, his forehead pressed to hers. He knew what he _wanted_ to say, it worked its way through his veins and lingered on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated though.  It seemed wrong somehow.  To come clean in some stolen moment when he wouldn't have to face the consequences of it all.  He swallowed hard.  A knock on the door broke the moment. Steve and Natasha untangled themselves and put a respectable distance between them as Sam walked into the room.

“Ready to go, Cap?” Sam asked and glanced between the two of them.  Natasha had turned somewhat as to not look at either of them head on, her arms wrapped around her midsection.  
  
Steve grabbed his bag from the ground and nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”  

Steve waited until Sam had left the room again before he moved back to Natasha.  He slid his hand into her hair again and pressed his lips to hers, softer than before but still tinged with need.  He pulled back reluctantly and let his forehead fall to hers once more.  “I’ll see you soon,” he promised.    
  
Natasha nodded and pressed her lips together.  “You better,” she replied fiercely and hesitated for a moment before she uncurled her fingers from his jacket and let him walk out of the room.

Steve quickly fell into step beside Sam and lifted his bag onto his shoulder.  He was quiet as they walked toward the parking garage, lost in his own thoughts until Sam’s voice cut through the silence.

“So - you and Natasha,” Sam prompted and glanced to Steve at his side.

Steve shifted his duffle a little and avoided meeting Sam’s gaze.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he defaulted to.  

“Yeah you do,” Sam said back with a bit of a grin.  “It’s cool, man, you guys do you.”  He stopped as they reached the garage and looked over at Steve.  “She make you happy?”

Steve felt the immediate pull of deja vu at the question.   _What makes you happy?_  It felt like a lifetime ago Sam had asked that.  So much had changed, so much of what he’d thought he’d known back then had been tossed to the wayside.  He ducked his head and smiled at the realization that he had an answer now.  Maybe he always _had_ , he was just able to see it clearly now.  He glanced up at Sam and nodded.  “Yeah, she does,” he said simply and nodded toward the garage.  “Now let’s get out of here.”

Natasha, for the obvious reasons, had never really been a particularly sound sleeper.  Neither had Steve.  Which hadn’t surprised her in the least to find out.  And while sleeping _together_ hadn’t miraculously made it a hundred percent better, it still helped.  At the very least Natasha had learned it was nice to have a grounding presence when her demons got the better of her in the middle of the night.  It was nice to be able to bury her head into Steve’s side and surround herself with _him_ instead of the ghosts of her past.  It seemed to be much the same for him, a warm body to wrap himself around when he started to shake in night.  It had only been a handful of weeks that she’d started spending the night and she was surprised - _terrified_ \- of how quickly she had come to need it.  

So much so that the nights when Steve had been gone she found herself completely for a loss in the long hours.  She’d had a key to his place for ages, since even before they’d started this whole thing, and she had been sorely tempted to use it.  Sneak in and wrap herself up in his blankets, breath in the scent of him and be in his space even if he wasn’t there.  She knew it wouldn’t be the same though, and more than that she was stubborn and wanted to prove that she wasn’t _that_ far gone.

The fourth night found her caving though.  She’d expected to feel like an intruder as she slipped into the empty apartment.  Like, despite having a key, she was breaking into somewhere she didn’t belong.  She didn’t though.  Instead, it felt _right_ .  It felt like coming _home._  Natasha kicked her shoes off at the door and hung her jacket up, like she had so many times before.  She glanced around the empty apartment as she walked in further.  It felt empty without Steve there, but still managed to ground her in a way, make her feel a little bit more at ease than she had been since he and Sam had left.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep right away so she tidied up around the apartment a little - they’d left a few dishes out the morning Steve had left and she set about putting them into the dishwasher, stacked up a couple of books and some of Steve’s art things that he been left lying around.    
  
She moved into the bedroom, to the tangled sheets they’d left behind and the reason for the state brought a smile to her lips.  She forewent a shirt from the dresser and instead pulled one from the top of the hamper, a bit wrinkled but she wasn’t planning on heading anywhere.  In the quiet dark of the room she stripped down to her panties and pulled the t-shirt over her head.  The smell of Steve’s soap, his deodorant, and the scent that undeniably _him_ lingered in the fabric and she set about straightening the sheets and duvet so she could slide into the bed.  It wasn’t the same - not even close - but it was miles above her bed in her own apartment.  It was still _their_ space and she could feel him there somehow even if he wasn't. She let her mind drift to the other nights she had in this bed. Her skin felt flush with the memory of thousands of touches, every gentle caress, every rough drag of his teeth, the countless ways Steve Rogers knew how to completely pull her apart.  

Natasha pulled the duvet up to her chin and shifted onto her side. She could feel herself start to let go of the day, relax into the sheets and the way she could feel at ease in the apartment, even without Steve there and she slowly, but surely, drifted off to sleep.

It was nearly four in the morning by the time Steve made his way back to his apartment.  The lead had turned out to be nothing but a dead end and he felt more than frustrated by the outcome.  Angry and utterly useless - and oh how he loathed himself for the failure, even if he knew logically it was beyond his control.  Steve hadn’t known what he would find when he and Sam followed the small scrap of information, but finding _nothing?_  It hit him harder than he had expected.  He was exhausted and every bone in his body _hurt_ in some fundamental way that had nothing to do with injury.  He’d been shut down and unresponsive the whole way back Stateside and was fairly certain he owed Sam an apology for it.  He was sorely tempted to give the door behind him a good slam as he walked into his place, and it was only the pair of flats that gave him pause.  Natasha’s flats.    
  
He shut the door softly and let his forehead fall to rest against the wood as his hands balled into fists against the grain.  He tried to calm the way his blood boiled with frustration, the pinpricks of anger that ran along the back of his head and threatened to explode.  He let out a few slow breaths, made himself focus on the fact that Natasha was _there,_ and then pushed himself off the back of the door before he kicked his shoes off.  

He paused in the doorframe of the bedroom.  Natasha was wrapped up in the duvet and he smiled a little seeing his shirt on her.  Steve quietly shed down to his boxers and then moved toward the bed.  Natasha shifted as his weight jostled the mattress and he moved to lay down beside her.  Goggily she lifted the blanket for him to get under and curled herself up against his side as he wrapped his arms around her.    
  
“I missed you,” she mumbled sleepily as she settled against him.  

 _Be enough_ , he willed himself as he let his head duck down to press his lips against the top of hers and breathed in the scent of her shampoo.  Let this _be enough_ to calm the grief of your own life, the anger just under the surface _._  “I missed you too,” he whispered back.  He pulled her in closer, slipped his hands up and under the shirt she wore to lie flush against her warm skin.   _Be enough._  Her breathing started to even out and he knew she had fallen back into the sleep he’d interrupted.  His own mind raced too much to even consider such a thing right then.  His thoughts a jumbled mess, the guilt that gnawed away at every fiber of his being.  The darkness that he had known for so long, that had faded in the past few months that now reared its ugly head again and threatened to swallow him whole.  The cold that seeped into his bones and made the warmth of Natasha’s form against his feel so far away even though she was _right there._  

 _You love her and let that be enough,_ he repeated, like a mantra in his head to try to block out the intrusive thoughts.  Steve listened to her breathing, watched the faint flutter of her eyelids in the dim light that was cast by a streetlamp by his window.  It took a while, but eventually the sheer exhaustion caught up with him and he slipped into a dreamless sleep - but not before one last thought clawed its way into his mind; _you always lose the things you love_ .   
  
The quiet calm of the night he came back Natasha would soon realize was but a small reprieve, and that the Steve who had left was not the Steve who came home.  After the battle of New York, Fury had handed her the _real_ file S.H.I.E.L.D had on Steve.  The one that painted a picture of a very broken man that his appointed therapist - one that as far as Natasha could tell Steve had never been back to outside of the initial few meetings for assessment - had diagnosed with a host of issues.  PTSD, survivor’s guilt, depression.  Nothing that Natasha hadn’t already assumed given the man had seen the worst of the atrocities in one of the world’s worst wars, watched his friend fall to his death and then crashed a plane into the arctic only to wake up and find seven decades had passed in the blink of an eye with everyone he had loved and known either dead or dying.   _I need an Agent, Romanoff, not a loose cannon,_ Fury had instructed her and then paired her with him.  

  
Natasha had worked hard to bring Steve out of himself- something that had first been out of fulfilling her orders, and then as she got to know him something that she did because she _wanted_ to.  Somewhere in those months following the battle of New York he had gone from her partner to friend.  Now he was something even more than that and it pained Natasha to see him retreating into a shell of the person she knew him capable of being.  He’d had his moments before, they _all_ had.  She’d find him standing in the middle of room and staring off into nothing, or she’d see the all too quick to arise flashes of anger on a bad day, she knew he’d spend his nights sometimes in a state of hypervigilance - eyes locked out his window and on guard.    
  
The days that followed his return from trying to find Bucky though were a new level that Natasha had honestly not been prepared for.  Steve snapped at _everything_ and _everyone_ .  The team, F.R.I.D.A.Y, his phone, the shoe he tripped over as they were leaving the apartment, _her._  Especially her and it made Natasha seethe. As much as she tried to understand where he was coming from, she found that his anger made her defensive, and her defensiveness made her angry. So he snapped and she snapped back - and every effort she made to try to talk to Steve in a calm and collected manner managed to blow up in her face as they fed off each other’s negativity.

She wasn't used to this. Not by a long shot. For so long now Steve had brought out the best in her, not the worst. Something she had slowly started to realize that maybe was the same for him. They were _partners_ . They worked together - in so many ways and in so many facets both off and on the field. So the Cold War - which was what it felt like, especially as the days stretched out without them so much as _touching_ each other, let alone having sex - was more than enough to throw her.

The third day found them staring down each other hard from their respective sides of the room. The rest of the team had long since gone home, thoroughly done with the dictatorship of a training session Steve had run all day and the constant bickering it had brought out between him and Natasha. She _knew_ she should back down - but she _couldn't._ As much as Natasha knew she needed to break the cycle of pushing each other,  she wasn’t sure _how_.  She didn’t know how to help him right then and it killed her, which only made her more on guard and more defensive to the anger he put forward.  She had always known Bucky was a sore subject for him, she just hadn’t been expecting _this_ when it was dragged to the surface again.

“Again.” Steve commanded and threw his shield across the space between them at her.  Natasha lifted her arm and flexed her muscle to activate the magnets in her gloves that pulled the shield in as it got in range.  The vibration at the contact hammered through her body and even though the shield was light it felt like a dead weight right then.  They’d been at it for hours now, the sweat beaded down the back of her neck and the tank top she wore was damp with it.  Her body ached and she was exhausted.  She shifted her weight and looked over at Steve.  He was practically manic as he stared back at her.  Natasha had seen him angry before, she’d seen him in the aftermath of realizing everything he had fought for in WWII had been in vain as HYDRA had never been defeated at all.  This was something else though, and it _scared_ her.

She flexed her muscle again to release the magnet’s hold on the shield and let it clatter the ground.  She was done.  She pushed past Steve as he all but stalked over to her and pulled her gloves off to toss them on a bench.

“We’re not done,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, we are,” she countered evenly and turned to face him, hands on her hips.  “ _I’m_ done,” she added.

“Romanoff..” He started.  
  
“What - “ Natasha interjected.  “Are you about to pull rank on me, _Rogers?_ ” She hissed, her tone sharp on his last name.  If he wanted to pull this bullshit, well, so could she.  “Go ahead, pull rank on me,” she all but dared.  Maybe it wasn’t fair, there was clearly something else going on that was affecting Steve’s behaviour but she was so damn _tired_.  She was sick of being his metaphorical punching bag at every turn.

“We’re not done here,” he said again as he moved into her space and stared down at her.  “Let’s run it again.”

“Run it again,” she repeated tersely.  Natasha pressed her lips together in a tight line and tried to keep herself calm.  “We’ve run it a hundred times, Rogers.  I’m tired, I’m past the point of effective here and I’m done,” she said evenly, deadly calm as she held his gaze and then moved to grab her zip up hoodie from the bench and pulled it on.  

Steve grabbed her arm as she pushed past him again and spun her around.  “I say when we’re done and we’re not done,” he all but spat out.  
  
Natasha looked at his hand gripped on her arm and then back up at his eyes.  Dark, _dangerous_ in a way she’d never really seen on him before.  A man possessed by his own demons and she had never felt more helpless when it came to Steve than she did in that moment.  “Steve..” She said softly.  “You need to stop this - this anger, this frustration, just let it go,” she insisted gently and kept his gaze.  Her heart thundered in her chest and every inch of her screamed _fight_ , but she was determined to keep it at bay.    
  
“I’m fine,” Steve snapped at her.  “Now let’s run this pattern again until I know you’ve got it down,” he ordered.

“Until you know I’ve got it down?” Natasha questioned, her tone a mix of anger and sheer astonishment.  “God, Rogers, I’m not some newbie recruit that you have to put through the paces,” she snapped back at him.  “I’m your _partner_ .  I have the pattern down, I have them _all_ down and then some.”  She tried to keep herself from yelling it at him, tried to tell herself that he wanted her to do just that.  That this wasn’t him doubting her abilities - he _never_ doubted her abilities and that was what she appreciated about him - but rather him just trying to pick a fight and knowing the quickest route to get it.  It came out as a strangled hiss, contained, but barely.  
  
“And this is _my_ team and if I say we run it again, we run it again,” he demanded, in a tone so unlike his own, laced with an edge that she had only ever seen little hints of before.  
  
Whatever resolve she had tried to hold on was gone.  Her capacity to understand and to try to see the other side of the behavior was gone.  Her hands balled into fists at her side and it took every ounce of self control to not just punch that goddamn _look_ off his face.  Natasha swallowed hard and nodded slowly.  “Go to hell, Rogers,” she seethed and tried to twist his arm out of his grasp.  When he didn’t give she quickly swept her foot under his and used the moment it caught him off balance to twist out of his grip.  She turned on her heel and stalked out of the gym.

Hours later - after a shower and trying to drown her emotions, which had insisted on being all over the map, with ice cream and a couple shots of vodka straight from the bottle in her freezer - the anger had subsided into a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.  She stared up at the ceiling and knew sleep was a lost cause right then.  The anger at Steve’s words, at the way he had insisted on taking out his frustrations on her, was still there - but she felt wrong being back in her own apartment while he was clearly going through something.  She turned her head to look at the clock.  1:37 AM.

She let out a soft sigh and looked back up at the ceiling.  She wondered what normal people would do right now.  If she was some normal woman who viewed the world in a normal way and had a relationship that she actually _called_ a relationship.  A thought she realized about two seconds in was idiotic because nothing about them was normal.  So instead she forced herself to let go of her anger, to let go of the events in the gym and her own stubborn need to be right no matter the cost.  She focused on the pain behind the anger Steve gave off, what was underneath his sudden need to be the world’s biggest asshole, and let that guide her into the realization that hiding in her own apartment was not the way to deal with the current situation.  Above all Steve was her friend and he _needed_ her.    
  
She moved quietly as she got out of her bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a baggy sweater.  Natasha left her apartment and headed to Steve’s.  Given the hour she didn’t knock, she doubted he was asleep but if he happened to be she didn’t want to disturb that.  Instead she let herself in again, her heart heavy for very different reasons than just a few days ago.  The apartment was dark, quiet, and she moved softly as she toed off her shoes and hung up her jacket.    
  
Her heart broke as she walked into the bedroom and saw Steve standing as still as a statue, backlit by the window.  His back was to her and she swallowed hard, steeled herself to be calm and then moved closer.  She stopped at his side and it was instantly clear as he didn’t even flinch or move an inch as her hand touched his arm that wherever he was in that moment it wasn’t _there._  The anger, the fight, he had been carrying around the past three days was all but gone as his eyes stared vacantly out the window.  She let her hand run down his arm gently and pried his fist open to let her fingers lace through his.  It was only then that he seemed to notice someone else in the room - but when he looked at her he seemed to look _through_ her.

Natasha winced at the expression, at the way it hit her like a freight train and made her feel all kinds of raw she wasn’t able to process.  It physically hurt to see him retreated so far into himself, to have his eyes look at her, but not _see_ her.  Devoid of all the warmth and love - and wasn’t that a scary moment when she realized that, but now that it was gone she _craved_ it - he usually looked at her with in their quiet moments together.  Devoid of _anything_ really.  She let out a slow breath and then tugged lightly at his hand.  “Come on, soldier,” she coaxed with a waver in her voice.  It took a minute, but he finally caught her drift and let her lead him back toward his bed.  She gently guided him to sit on the edge of the mattress.  

She stepped into his space and let her hands move to run softly through his hair.  As much as it killed her to see him like this, it was almost a relief after the past few days.  The breaking point in a way and she knew she could pull him through it to the other side.  She looked down at him and kept her hands moving through his hair.  Touch - a tactile thing he could use to ground himself and pull himself back into reality.  No anger this time, no frustration.  She would be the touchstone he so greatly needed right then, the strength he lacked right then wouldn’t matter because he could have hers. “Come back to me, Steve,” she urged tenderly.  “I’m here, okay, I’m here.”

It took a few minutes, there in the dark of his room with her hands and whispered words, but eventually she felt him move.  His arms snaked around her midsection and she shuffled forward as he pulled her in and let his head fall into her.  Natasha held him close to her and leaned her head down to brush her lips against the top of his head as she felt his body start to tremble and shake.  “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here…” she repeated over and over.  Steve’s grip on her was as tight as her own on him and she moved to straddle his lap, letting her weight sink into him.  She kept repeating her words, even as she ducked her head into his neck and her lips brushed against his skin as she kept repeating her words.    
  
“I’m sorry,” he quavered and pressed his face into her stomach.  “God, Nat, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he breathed out.  His hands flexed against her skin as his body still trembled as the weight of his actions collapsed upon him.  “I’m sorry..” He repeated again and again.  Sorry to her, sorry to everyone he’d be an ass to, sorry to the people he’d failed and let get lost along the way.  Sorry for his whole damn life that he couldn’t quite keep together.    
  
“Shhh..” Natasha said softly.  “It’s okay, Steve - we’re okay,” she assured him and rubbed a hand up and down his back in a soothing motion.  That seemed to put him at ease and they fell into a calm silence.    
  
“All I had to do was reach his hand,” Steve said suddenly, breaking the quiet.  
  
Natasha paused the movement of her hand, more out of surprise by the sudden words than anything else.  But she started again after barely a pause.  She knew instantly he was talking about Bucky and she didn’t dare coax him to continue, she knew he would when he was ready.  She could feel him shift below her and take a moment to steady himself.  He tightened his grip on her, buried his head against her and then pulled back a little when he was ready to speak again.  
  
“When we were kids, Buck and I used to sneak into this pool after hours, we couldn’t much afford to go when it was open,” he started.  There was a soft tinge of amusement at the words, at the memory, but it was short lived as he kept talking.  Steve forced himself to focus on Natasha’s hand as it ran up and down his back, kept that as a constant as he spoke.  “And I was - a _terrible_ swimmer.  I mean I was pretty much terrible at everything back then, but I was especially terrible at swimming.  But, and this might come as a surprise to you, I was also a stubborn idiot - “ he paused and tried to smile a little at the bad attempt at a joke.  

Natasha lifted her head to look at him with a small attempt of her own.  “You don’t say,” she replied dryly and took a moment to let her lips brush over his gently.    
  
“So I tried to keep up anyways.  And it wasn’t long before I was in over my head - literally and figuratively.   I couldn’t touch the bottom and the panic triggered an asthma attack and Bucky, well Buck jumped right in there and dragged my sorry ass out.  Saved me from my own idiot self, just like he always did,” Steve paused and swallowed hard.  He took a moment to let his hands slide under her sweater, craving the feeling of her skin below his as he worked through the emotions that felt so raw and so close to the surface.  “And the one time he needed me to return the favor, I couldn’t.”  
  
Natasha stopped her movements with her hand for a moment and instead hugged him tightly before she spoke.  She had never seen someone carry around guilt like Steve could.  Even herself.  “It’s not your fault, Steve,” she tried to assure him, though she was fairly certain he wouldn’t buy it.  Not by a long shot.    
  
“All I had to do was reach his hand,” he said again and his voice cracked.  “I was his commanding officer, Natasha, I put him on that train and when he needed me to save him for once, I _couldn’t._ ”  He buried his face back into her.  “And even now I’m _still_ failing him,” he admitted.    
  
“Steve..” Natasha started.  “You can’t do this to yourself - you can’t live with the amount of guilt you’re giving yourself over this,” she said gently.  “You’re going to find him,” she assured him.  Although she honestly wasn’t sure if that would make it better or worse in the long run - what there even would be _left_ of James Barnes to find.  “But you have to figure out how to forgive yourself, Steve, before you lose yourself in your own guilt.”  

She moved her hands to the sides of his face and gently urged him to look up at her.  “You’re a good man,” she said.  “You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met but this will destroy you if you let it.”  She rubbed her thumbs against his cheeks and leant in to brush her lips over his.  “Don’t let it, please don’t let yourself drown in your own guilt” she pleaded.   “And if you feel it pulling you under...” She pressed soft kisses across his jaw, over his cheeks, she tried hard not to let her voice crack as she spoke again, tried to push away the _fear_ of losing him to something that had nothing to do with dying bloody in the middle of some fight.  “I”m here, Steve, I’ll _be_ here…I’ll always be here...”  
  
He lifted his hands to rest on hers and pressed his forehead to hers.   _Let it be enough,_ he thought again.  He could feel the grip of her hands on his face, as though she could crawl into his very being and put him back together from the inside out.  As though he could do the same to her.  Steve rubbed his forehead against hers, pressed his lips together tight and he could see her blink hard against the wetness that had pooled along her lash line.  He thumbed at the tears and let out a slow breath. He pressed his lips to hers, gently at first, but it wasn’t long before they shifted it into something more desperate, more raw, like they were the only damn thing they had to hold onto in the whole world.  
  
It wasn’t long before they had shifted into the bed, shedded each other of clothes and mapped all the spots that had laid untouched for over a week now.  Her legs hooked around his hips, his arms around her tight as he pulled her into his lap and slid into her.  Her hands roamed across his shoulders, across his upper back and she ducked her head into his neck as she rolled her hips along his and he thrusted up to meet her.  It was a different sort of urgency - a desperation not to bring the other to climax but to be as close to each other as two people possibly could be.  Their bodies flush against each other as they moved, hands gripping tight and Natasha was sure she’d have a few small bruises dotted along her skin before they were through.    
  
Steve’s lips lingered over her body, open mouthed and dragged over her skin.  He latched his mouth around a nipple, a groan at her moan.  He let it go and lavished attention on the other before he dipped his head into the space between them.  He felt charged with his need for her, and as he let go could feel it push away the darkness bit by bit.  He could feel _her_ push away the darkness and replace it with the soft sounds she made as they moved together, her lips against his neck and across his shoulders, the feel of her fingers as they gripped him tight, the very way it felt to be _inside_ of her, to be buried so deep until there was nothing _but her_ , and how it was _enough_ .  How it was _more_ than enough and he’d been nothing short of an idiot to even think for a second it couldn’t be.  “Natasha…” he mumbled against her skin, lost in the feel of her.  “You’re amazing… the best thing that’s ever happened to me…” his lips moved against her skin as he let the words out.  “I love you, God, I love you so much,” he breathed out, not even thinking of what he had just let go.    
  
Natasha’s heart skipped at the confession and she stilled.  She had expected it, she had known he _felt_ it.  She had realized that this was the logical progression of what they were doing.  She knew damn well that their sex had never been _just_ sex - that especially moments like this they had long since crossed into that territory of making love. She had assumed it would hit her differently though.  She thought it would drag up every defense she had and leave her stripped of nothing but the urge to _run._  Instead there was something else.  A warmth that spread through her, a flutter of her heart as she started to roll her hips against his again, a feeling of contentment that she had never imagined she would feel at those words.  A tiny thought in the back of her mind that maybe she loved him too.  She reached a hand between them to lift his chin up and held his gaze for a moment before she captured his lips with hers.  She wasn’t there, she couldn’t give him the same words back and even if she was _sure_ of that tiny little thought in the back of her mind she knew _knowing_ it and _saying_ it would be two very different things.  So instead she tried to give everything that she _could_ give in the kiss, in the way she cradled his head and moved against him, in the way she wouldn’t pull away at his own honesty and instead embrace it.  
  
Steve’s hands slid up into her hair as he kissed her back.  He could feel himself getting closer to that edge and he tried to hold on, to keep his lips against hers and bring her over with him - but it was all _too much_ right then and he ducked his head back into her chest as his body shook with his orgasm.  She didn’t stop the roll of her hips against his as he emptied into her, but she slowed somewhat as to not completely overwhelm him.  He shuddered under her, her name escaped in a sigh and she raked her hands through his hair as he came down.  
  
He was still for a few minutes and then moved an arm around her to lift her up and place her gently on her back on the bed.  He let his lips graze over hers as a hand dipped between them to run along her stomach and down between her legs.  She moaned into his mouth as his finger ran over her swollen clit, and she arched herself up into the touch.  He broke off the kiss and scooted himself down the bed.  He dragged his mouth up the inside of her thigh as his finger ran a line along her and then slid inside.  He kept his movements slow, but purposeful, as he slipped two more fingers into her.  “Jesus, Steve,” she sighed out as the digits did a little to replace the feeling of his cock inside her.  Her hand moved into his hair and there was a soft tug of it as his tongue darted out to taste her.    
  
“That feels so good..” She managed to mumble out as his tongue flicked against her clit, as his fingers moved in slow, deep, thrusts inside her.  It didn’t take long for him to bring her to climax and he smiled against her as he felt her spasm around his fingers as she let out a low, soft, moan.  Her fingers flexed in his hair and her back arched up, he trailed little kisses along the inside of her thigh.  He waited until her breathing had evened back out before he pulled his fingers out and moved to rest his head on her stomach.  He turned a little to kiss the soft skin before he settled back.    
  
Natasha’s hand still ran through the short strands of his hair and he lifted one of his own to fumble for her other.  He laced his fingers through hers and she gave his hand a little squeeze.  He knew what he had blurted out in the heat of the moment - not that he didn’t feel it outside of that - and he wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up.  So instead he gave himself another minute to just enjoy the closeness of her.  To just be _there_ and not worry about the consequences of his words.  

“Natasha?” he started after a moment.  
  
“Yeah,” she mumbled back.  
  
Steve shifted back up the bed and propped himself up on his elbow as he looked down at her.  Her skin was still flushed, her lips slightly swollen, her eyes wide and dilated as she looked back up at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything quite so beautiful.  He let a hand brush against her cheekbone and he smiled softly.  “I love you,” he repeated.  He wanted her to know that he had _meant_ it, that it hadn’t been a throwaway line in the middle of sex.  He wanted her to know just _how_ important she was to him.   “I know that’s not what we set out to do here, I know maybe that’s too much…” he trailed off a little.  “And I’m not expecting…” because that was the last thing he wanted to make her feel.  She was there, that was more than enough for him, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to say something, _feel_ something, that she didn’t.    
  
She tugged him down and pressed her lips to his.  She smiled at him when they broke apart.  “You’re thinking too much,” she pointed out.  She cupped his face between her hands and gave him another small smile, reassuring.  “It’s okay, Steve,” she assured him.  “I’m okay with it.”   _More_ than okay she thought as the trepidation left his gaze and it was nothing but warmth.  He loved her.  She was _loved_ , and as much as she had always thought it was a silly concept, something to watch from afar but never partake in, she found herself _melting_ at the knowing it.  

Steve couldn’t help the grin at her words, at the fact it hadn’t made her run for the hills, hadn’t made her call this whole thing off, but rather seemed to be something that she _wanted_ to hear now that it was out in the open.  He had meant it when he said he hadn’t expected anything back, he knew she viewed some things in life much different than him and that was _okay._  He was content to just have her with him, in whatever capacity she was willing to give.  He claimed her lips with his once more and pulled her into him.  Natasha broke the kiss off gently and sighed contently. “Think anyone would care if we were late tomorrow,” she paused and looked up at him.  “ _Really_ late?” she added with a soft smile.

“I think we could probably get away with it,” he answered and pressed his lips to hers again.  He maneuvered them to sneak in under the duvet and he pulled her close against him.  The weight of the past few days ebbed as they laid wrapped up in each other, the anger dulled and replaced with the warmth of being with each other, and it wasn’t long before they both drifted off to sleep.


	6. lonely water won't you let us wander (let us hold each other)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a friend shows up unexpectedly, Steve and Natasha are forced to deal with past issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we reach the chapter where our two idiots must talk about that terrible time otherwise known as Age of Ultron. IDK guys, I still don't know how I feel about this chapter but I've beat it up enough.

_Tried to keep you close to me,_  
_But life got in between_  
_Tried to square not being there_  
_But think that I should've been_

 _Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes_  
_Hold back the river, so I_  
_Can stop for a minute and see where you hide_  
_Hold back the river, hold back_  
_James Bay - Hold Back the River_

 

The mission should have been a walk in the park.  It should have been in and out and without incident.  Of course the things that were _supposed_ to be easy almost never were.  Somehow, out of sheer, blind luck - or the universe really having it in for him, Steve wasn’t sure which - their walk in the park, in and out mission put them smack dab in the corner of the world Bruce Banner had decided to hole himself up in.

It could have gone worse, all things considered. But for Steve, it felt pretty damn bad right about then. His jaw clenched as he watched where Natasha and Bruce sat together in the back corner of the quinjet. She had a hand on his arm and their heads were tilted in close as Natasha talked to him softly. He tried to remind himself that it didn't necessarily _mean_ anything. They were in a confined place, it was important to keep Bruce calm, that was all. But still he couldn't help the way it twisted and coiled in the pit of his stomach.  The old familiar pang of jealously that he had known so well when Natasha and Bruce had first started to get close.  Except now it was worse. Infinitely so.  His feelings were so much stronger now, emotions he had more than acted on instead of being regulated to some back part of his mind.  

He was in love with her and he had been - for longer than he knew he even realized. Somewhere between the battle of New York and the back of a S.H.I.E.L.D van where bleeding and broken she tried to absolve him of the guilt of what had happened to Bucky. Some moment along the line when the grief of his own life let up for a brief reprieve and he found himself _wanting_ . Not just _existing_ , but _wanting_. He didn’t say it of course - he had more than convinced himself he was an idiot just for even having the thoughts. What the hell did he have to offer anyways. His life was a broken mess, fractured and split firmly between a life he'd lost and a life he had been handed.

Natasha had been the closest to home he’d had since he’d woken up and that wasn’t something he had  wanted to risk. He had been content to continue with what he had - a friend, a teammate, a partner. The person who had started to fill in some of the gaping holes that had been left in his life when he woke up seven decades into the future. So he had compartmentalized, put his feelings aside and tried not to think of them - tried to pretend like it didn’t kill him a little inside to watch her with Banner and convince himself instead that if it made _her_ happy _he_ would be happy. He had stepped aside because it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Now though the idea of stepping aside felt sickening. He wouldn't. He _couldn't._

“You okay, Cap?” came Sam’s voice and it pulled Steve from the thoughts.

Steve shifted on his feet and nodded as he looked away from Natasha and Bruce.   He tugged on his gloves and kept his eyes down as he answered Sam.  “I'm fine,” he said shortly.  

Sam eyed him and glanced quickly toward Natasha and Bruce before he looked back at Steve.  “You sure, man?  You don’t look - fine.”

“I said I’m fine,” he repeated.  “I need to go check on our ETA,” he added and moved toward the cockpit before Sam could push him further.  A spot he stayed until they landed back in the Compound.  

When they arrived back Steve dismissed the team - having moved debriefing until the next day, it seemed pointless to do it then anyways as Natasha had disappeared with Bruce the moment the Quinjet had landed. A move that Steve was trying - and failing - to not be bothered by.  The others seemed to pick up on the tensions and scattered quickly. Which left Steve in a dangerous spot - alone with his own thoughts as he moved quietly into one of the lesser used locker rooms in the Avengers’ Compound.

Even though he knew things were different now - that _they_ were different - he couldn't help his thoughts from becoming a twisted mess of jealousy and worst case scenarios.  Steve knew Natasha cared for him a great deal, loved him maybe even if she hadn't found the words yet. But what if Banner coming back changed things.  What if Natasha had really only been biding her time until Bruce showed up. Thoughts that Steve knew were anything but logical, but there nonetheless wrapped up in apprehension and his own insecurities.  While the serum had afforded him things he hadn’t even been able to dream of, he was still in so many ways that skinny kid from Brooklyn who he knew no one thought was worth a damn.  Underneath Captain America he was still Steve - always picked last, always on the sidelines. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Natasha was, and always would be, firmly out of his league.

So how could he not worry. How could he not have his stomach in knots and think about all the million ways this could suddenly go so wrong. He hated it. He didn't want to be _that_ guy, pulled under by his own insecurities but yet there he was. He could feel his anger rise at the situation, at himself, at Banner for being where they were in the first place.  He stood in the middle the of the room, his hand curled around the top of his shield and he threw it against the row of lockers where it lodged in firmly.  He left it there and sank down onto the bench.  He pulled his helmet off and let it clatter to the ground, his gloves soon followed.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before she walked into the room - she was still in her fight suit and he hadn’t gotten any further in changing himself.  Natasha spotted his shield lodged into the lockers and raised a brow.  She crossed her arms around her and leaned against the wall as she looked down at him on the bench.  Space.  There was space between them and she _knew_ it and it felt awful.  It felt like before Ultron all over again.   _Distance_ .  A tension that was so unlike them.  She wanted to ignore it, to force themselves back into their new normal and forget that today had even happened.  As tempting as it was though, she knew they couldn’t.  They had stumbled upon more than just Bruce - he was just simply the manifestation of a period of time where _they_ hadn’t worked.  Natasha knew as much as she dreaded it, they had to talk about it.  

“Hey,” she said softly.  “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

Steve looked up at her.  He couldn’t help but think of the last time they’d been in this room - she’d stood against that wall then too.  Except then he’d pushed her against it as they had fumbled desperately to rid each other of clothes, only managing to get rid of the bare minimum as their mutual desire overtook.  It hadn’t been the first time the locker room had been used in such a way.  Hell, they’d made good use of most of the compound since they’d started sleeping together.  They’d learned quickly that their insatiable appetites more than matched the other, and other than the small lull after Steve had returned from looking for Bucky they could barely keep their hands to themselves.  They lived a life most couldn’t even fathom, full of uncertainty and more personal demons than one should ever have to deal with.  Being physical with each other Steve had come to realize wasn’t just a _choice_ once they had gone down that path.  It was a _need_ .    
  
He wasn’t sure what to say to her right then - his head such a mess of too many thoughts and too many feelings he knew he shouldn’t be having.  He had no clue what he _should_ have said, but he was sure once the words left his mouth what came out wasn’t it.  “How’s Banner?”  Even he winced a little at the question, at the slight twinge of bitterness that had seeped into it.  

Natasha stiffened and then shifted her weight.  Steve might had been the virgin sexually as they headed into this, but in terms of navigating what was now clearly a _relationship_ and not just friends who happened to have sex they were both equally inexperienced.  As much as he wasn’t sure what to say, she was just as lost.  What had happened between her and Bruce had at the time seemed so important, but in hindsight Natasha was able to see it for what it was.  A distraction.  “He’s fine.  He’s heading out in the morning,” she said flatly.  She watched his face for a reaction at the words, the small little moment of relief and she moved toward him.  “So whatever you’ve been sitting here thinking,” she started - she knew him well enough to know when his thoughts had taken a bad turn.  “Don’t think it.”    
  
She moved to sit on the bench beside him.  She knew she didn’t _owe_ him an explanation.  They hadn’t been together when she’d grown closer to Bruce.  She wanted to give one though.  Not because of Bruce, but because what had happened to _them._  They had been different during that time.  That damn distance that she still to this day regretted.  A stretch of time when while they still worked seamlessly on the field something off of it had changed, something had been lost.  

She let the silence linger between them as she collected her thoughts.  “After S.H.I.E.L.D fell...” she stopped and let out a slow breath.  While she knew most of the world viewed her as closed off and emotionless she _wasn’t_.  The people close to her knew she wasn’t - that she had a great capacity to care for those she did let in.  She knew the Red Room had done a number on her but she knew she wasn’t as emotionally stunted as some might think.  She did still however have trouble with being honest about certain things.  Her own shortcomings being on the top of the list.  For as long as she could remember Natasha had lived in a constant state of having to prove herself.  Prove herself capable in the Red Room, prove herself worthy of the chance S.H.I.E.L.D gave her, prove herself an Avenger.  Prove to the world and herself that she was more than just someone’s weapon.  She wasn’t used to having to admit she was weak, incapable, unable to handle something on her own.

“I was so lost,” she admitted softly with a shake of her head.  It wasn’t new for him to hear, he had put it together that afternoon in Sam’s apartment and she knew that.  She had been more honest with him then than she had with anyone in a long, long time.  She wondered if he ever knew the extent of it though.  How she stayed awake sleepless for months on end, how she tormented herself with the knowledge that all her years trying to clear her ledger hadn’t meant a damn thing in the end.  Did he know that even now she still felt sick when she thought of what S.H.I.E.L.D being HYDRA meant, how even now she doubted every mission and every move, everything she thought she had done right in her life.  

“You could have come to me,” Steve said to the confession, his voice soft. Hurt, something that killed Natasha a little to hear.

She shook her head softly. It wasn't that she hadn't known back then that he would have helped her through it - she knew he would have. He would have picked up her broken pieces and put her back together. He would have made damn sure that the damage done by the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D was patched up. It had never been about _him_ \- at least not in the way he was insinuating. It had been _her_. _She_ _couldn't_. Not after everything that had happened. Not after the Potomac.

She laced her hands together in her lap and let her gaze fall straight ahead of her. “You died,” she said softly. Barely above a whisper.  “After we found you on the banks of the Potomac and managed to drag you into a helicopter. We were still five minutes out from the hospital and your heartbeat..“ she paused and swallowed hard. “You were legally dead,” she finished after she took a moment to collect herself.  Her voice even, rehearsed almost.  The Black Widow and not Natasha.  

Steve blanched a little.  He had known it had been bad - it was rare after the serum that he needed medical care, and waking up in the hospital still sore and unable to move much had been a shock to say the least.  He hadn’t realized it had been _that_ bad though.  No one had mentioned the fact he had died until then.  It felt like the world fell out from under him a little, not because of how it affected _him_ , but rather how it had clearly shaken _her -_ the memory one that even years later was still causing her pain.  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly.  

Natasha glanced at him and that brought the faintest of smiles to her face.  Sorry.  Of _course_ he was sorry.  “Only you would apologize for dying, Rogers,” she deadpanned.

He shrugged a bit sheepishly and reached across to uncurl her hands.  He laced his fingers through hers and gave her a little squeeze.  It was the unspoken prompt for her to keep going, when she was ready.  

“And I remember sitting there as they worked on you, as they tried so desperately to bring you back and all I could think was how royally I screwed up.”  She glanced at him and pressed her lips together for a moment before she continued. “I'd gotten too close,  I'd cared too much and as indestructible as you think you are sometimes, you're _not_.”

“Nat…” Steve started. He found himself a little thrown by the conversation, the idea that he hadn't been the only one even back then to be feeling more than they were supposed to. It made him feel like more of an idiot now for not saying anything. For stepping back.

She shook her head. She could see where his thoughts were going. Some misguided notion that maybe he had waited too long - that maybe they could have been something more a long time ago.  When the truth was as much as their relationship had been hard to come to terms with now, it would have been even worse back then. She hadn't been ready back then. Not by a long shot.  She wasn’t even sure if she was ready _now._

“Don’t,” she said softly.  “This - us - “ she gave his hand a small squeeze.  “It happened when it was supposed it,” she added, letting him off the hook for any silly notion that he had been late.

She took a quiet moment, looked down at their hands together and let her thumb rub idly against the back of his hand.  “I was scared,” she admitted.  “Scared of _how_ much I felt for you, how much I _trusted_ you.  So it became easier just to push you away, to pretend when the Avengers came together again that nothing had changed between us since that first fight.”  She paused again and shrugged.  “And you let me.  Which made it all that much easier to keep pushing you away, to wallow in my own self pity of having had everything fall apart around me, to let myself start to think I wanted to run away from it all, to think I even _could._ ”  She hated those words and all they meant.  Run away.  She _loathed_ who she had been then.  It hadn’t even felt like her, it had felt like watching some other version of herself make choices she knew were wrong and yet she hadn’t been able to stop.    
  
“And then there was Bruce,” she started.  She pulled her hand away so she could shift where she sat, turned to her side to face him and crossed her legs underneath her.  Her heart pounded in her chest, she knew the things she was about to say could possibly end this right then and there.  She wasn’t proud of her actions with Bruce, with the thought pattern that had lead her to him.  She knew those months were just more in a long list of reasons why she was a terrible person at the end of the day.  Telling Steve where her head had been at with Bruce was a terrifying prospect.  It never ceased to amaze her, how much good he found in her and she dreaded the day she saw her for who she really was.

“When I started working with Bruce I saw myself in him. I saw someone else who had no place, I saw someone else who was a monster.”  It sounded so awful when she said it out loud. What kind of person reduced another person to a monster just so they could feel better about themselves. She watched Steve as he took in the words, watched the way his eyes moved from her to the door, the way his body stiffened and his jaw clenched. She had to look away.  “And more than that I saw an excuse.”

“An excuse?  An excuse for what?” he asked but didn’t move to look at her.

Her eyes closed as she dropped her chin with a shake of her head.  “An excuse to run away,” she admitted.  “I knew if I asked him, he would. Then I could pretend it was for him, for some misguided sham of a relationship.  My running away wouldn’t have been because I had no idea who I was without S.H.I.E.L.D, it wouldn’t have been because I felt more lost and adrift than I ever had before,”  she paused and lifted her eyes back to him. “It wouldn’t have been because I was scared of how I felt about _you.”_

Steve met her gaze and held it for a moment.  He felt even more at a loss of what to say than he had before.  He had known the events with S.H.I.E.L.D had been hard on her, he just hadn’t realized how much.  The guilt at it gnawed at him.  He _should_ have known.  She was his friend, his _partner._  He was supposed to catch those things.  But he had let his own insecurity and jealousy get in the way of that.  He had watched her come back, put a distance between them and assumed he had read their partnership wrong.  He had let himself believe it had only been wishful thinking that made him think there might have been something more between them.  He shuddered to think of every time _Romanoff_ had come out of his mouth instead of _Nat._  Of every time he had put his own issues above hers and let that distance grow.  
  
“Nat…” he started and reached for her hand again.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated from earlier.    
  
Natasha’s eyes widened and she shook her head slightly.  “Steve - you have _nothing_ to be sorry for,” she countered quickly.    
  
He looked down at their hands as his lips pressed together for a moment.  “You said it yourself.  You pushed me away - “ he looked back up at her, “and I let you.” The guilt he felt at it was evident in his tone.  “I knew what I felt for you was more than I should, even back then.  I didn’t know how to deal with that, and when you came back acting like nothing had changed between us - “ he shrugged a little.  “I guess I just thought I had read it all wrong.”  He offered her a sheepish smile.  “In case you haven’t clued in, I really have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to women.”  He gave her hand a little squeeze when she smiled softly at that.    
  
“And when I saw you getting closer to Bruce I _really_ started to step back.  I thought - I thought he’d be good for you.”  Steve hated just how wrong he had been on that account.  It made him angry to think about now.  He knew Natasha didn’t see herself the way he did, the way she _should_.  It tore at him now to realize that Bruce hadn’t seen her either.  He paused a little to collect his thoughts.  “And I was jealous,” he admitted.  

“I know,” Natasha said with a soft smile.  

Steve couldn’t help the little chuckle at that.  “Of course you knew,” he said.  They were quiet again for a moment before Steve met her gaze again.  “You didn’t,” he said simply and gave her a brief smile.  “In the end.  You didn’t.”  
  
“Didn’t what?” she asked.

“Run away.”  He reached his free hand across and tucked some of her hair behind her ear.  “You stayed on that rock knowing damn well it might have been the last place you stood.   _That’s_ who you are, Nat.  However lost and adrift you felt, you still _stayed_ .”  He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her in closer.  “You’re not some monster without a place,” he assured her.  “You’re amazing, Natasha.  Where you came from, what you went through, what was done to you?  Most people wouldn’t ever come back from that.  But _you_ did.”  He let go of her hand so he could cup her face with his, a silent moment as he searched her eyes.  “You’re so much more than what they tried to make you into,” he said fiercely.  “And you will _always_ have a place with me.”  They weren’t words he said lightly, he knew what it meant.  That this was a commitment in the truest sense of the word.  It was more than I love you and so much more than they had agreed this would be when they’d started out.  But he meant every word of it.  

 _You will always have a place with me._  She had to look down, had to blink rapidly against the wetness that had formed in the corner of her eyes at the words.  She had to take a moment to let that settle, to let all the things those words _meant_ wash over her.  She had to take a minute to remember how to _breathe_ .  “You can’t - you don’t…. _Steve_ ..” she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she settled on.  
  
“Yes I do,” he replied.  “I love you, Natasha.”  It was words he’d only said a handful of times since the first.  Not because he didn’t think she should hear it at every turn, but he knew she wasn’t there herself, or at least not ready to _say_ it, and he didn’t want to make her feel bad for that.  

“This thing between us that wasn’t supposed to be a big thing?  It’s a _big_ thing, Nat.  And there’s nowhere else I want to be, no one else I want to _be with_ .”  He gently lifted her head for her to look at him.  “You’re my best friend, you challenge me in so many ways, you keep me grounded when it feels like the whole world is against us, you make me feel like it’s okay to want something for myself, to _live_ my life outside of my duty.”  His thumbs stroked the side of her face as he held it.  “You gave me a home when I had none.  So I know exactly what I’m saying.  I’m yours,” he smiled gently.  “As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She watched him as the words sunk in and she waited for the moment when he realized _what_ he had just said - for the the moment he would take it back.  That moment never came though - and there was nothing but the truth of his words in his eyes as they held each other’s gaze.  She knew it then.  She loved him.   _She was in love with him._  She wanted desperately to say it, to let it out into the world and make it _real._  She found herself unable to though.  Between her talk with Bruce and now the honesty with Steve she felt more than overwhelmed.  Exposed and raw in so many ways she wasn’t used to.  

She shifted to straddle his lap.  Her hands moved to lace behind his neck and she kissed him before she pulled away to speak.  It was right _there_.  I love you.  Three words, that’s all it was.  That was all she had to say and she _couldn’t_ .   “And I’m yours,” she settled for instead and met his gaze.  “For as long as you’ll have me,” she echoed.  It was as close as she could get to saying it, without _actually_ saying it.  And as he pulled her in for another kiss, his hands moving to tangle in her hair she knew it was enough.  

Her own hands moved to trail down the front of his suit as she rolled her hips against his.  That now familiar, but still exciting, warmth spread through her belly and she deepened the kiss.  She might not be able to _say_ it, but she knew she could _show_ it.  After all, hadn’t she been doing just that for weeks now.  Her hands tugged at the harness, pushed it off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.  She moved to his belt, fingers working deftly and it shortly joined the harness.    
  
Steve gripped her tight as her tongue slipped into his mouth and slid across his.  He moved his hands to the zipper in the back of her suit and tugged it down.  As he pulled it off her shoulders his mouth moved to trail across the now bare skin.  They both still had remnants of the earlier mission on them - a streak of dirt here, a bruise there.  Nothing they wouldn’t recover from.  They’d been through worse.

“Shower?” Natasha mumbled through a soft mewl as his lips pressed into the hollow between her collarbone and neck.  

“Yes,” he agreed and sucked a mark against the sensitive skin.  “Definitely.”

Their suits weren’t exactly the easiest things to get off, but they made quick enough work of it.  Steve lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his midsection as they moved toward the bank of showers.  He reached for the taps of the first one and turned it on.  It took a few moments to adjust the temperature (and the while with Natasha’s lips trailing over his neck from her spot in his arms) and once he deemed it satisfactory he walked them into the stall.  

Her hand moved between them to wrap around his already hard length and he moaned against her neck as she stroked him.  He moved so that her back was against the wall of the stall, but still kept most of her weight in his arm under her ass.  He captured her mouth with his, the water beat down his neck and flowed between them.  He moved a hand up her thigh and grinned against her lips at her sharp intake of breath as his thumb brushed against her clit.  

“ _Steve,_ ” she whined lowly as he teased her by rubbing a few circles against the sensitive nub before he let his hand drag back down her thigh.  

“Yeah?” he retorted with his lips trailing against her shoulder, an amused tone tinged the word because he knew damn well what she was protesting.

Her hand curled tighter around his cock, that place between pleasure and pain and she gave a few strokes before she let her hand still around him.  Steve glanced up just in time to see the curl of her lips, the glint in her eyes that immediately assured him he was not the one in control here.  “You stop and I stop,” she said sweetly, though the threat was more than apparent.  Her hand ran down his length and sucked her earlobe between her lips before she spoke lowly into his ear.  “And I really don’t think you want me to stop.”

He groaned at the touch, at the feel of her lips against his ear, and his fingers gripped her thigh.  She’d have tiny little bruises there in the morning.  He pushed her more against the wall of the shower, his hand reached between them to grab hers and he lifted it up, pressed his hand against her wrist and kept it trapped against the wall.  He gave her a smug grin, as though he had won some little victory by not falling into her trap.  He adjusted them so that he could push his cock into her warmth.  He gave a few slow, purposefully thrusts before he pulled out, a satisfied smirk on his lips as she let out another low whine.  “Who doesn’t want who not to stop now,” he teased.

She laughed softly.  “God you’re such a little shit, Rogers.”

Steve grinned and kissed her, a slow open mouthed kiss.  “Yeah but I’m _your_ little shit,” he said with a laugh and dragged his lips down the side of her neck.  “And you’re stuck with me now,” he pointed out.

  
“Oh, I so take it back,” she muttered teasingly and bucked her hips against him.    
  
He pushed back into her, and his arm around her tightened when she moaned as he filled her fully.  “I don’t think you really mean that,” he said lowly into her ear and pulled fully out and then thrusted back in again.  It was a pace he maintained as he talked, he’d slowly pull all the way out only to push back in hard.  Natasha’s hand that wasn’t pinned against the wall gripped his shoulder tight and she ducked her head against his shoulder as she moaned.  It was the most glorious mix of slow and torturous as he pulled out, and hard and fast as he filled her back up.  

“I could mean it,” she managed to stumble out through her gasps, her legs a death grip around his midsection.  
  
Steve let go of her hand above them and slid his behind her neck and into her hair.  He wasn’t overly _rough_ in the move, but it wasn’t exactly gently either as he tilted her head back so he could speak against her ear - his voice more of a growl than anything else.  “No I really don’t think you could.”  He paused on the pull out, let his cock slid against her clit and then pushed back in roughly.  “What was it you said the last time we fucked in this shower?” he prompted, his lips against her ear still.  
  
Natasha shuddered. It wasn’t as rare as some might think for him to break out talk like that, but it still managed to go right to her core every time he did.  The way his eyes would darken, the way his words came out low and gravely, downright _possessive._  

“Ruined you for other men,” he provided.  “I believe it was something like that.”  There was a certain teasing smugness to the words as he pulled out and looked down at her expectantly - a grin on his face that she had long since dubbed the _I’m being a little shit and I know it_ grin.  

“Shut up and fuck me, Rogers,” she countered with a press of her hips into his.  She dragged her lips up the side of his neck and to his mouth as he thrusted back into her.  
  
Ruined.  Definitely ruined, she agreed as he bottomed out in her, so deep she couldn’t even think straight.  He easily held her weight with his arm which was a good thing because she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stand even if she wanted as he set a relentless pace.  The tile of the wall behind her felt cool against her back, the hot water pooled between them and her cries echoed in the empty room.  His hand was tangled in her wet tresses and there was a tug with every thrust, her nails dug red marks into his shoulder.  She knew she would _never_ get used to this, to the way it felt to have him fuck her like she was the only thing he had in this world to hold onto.  The way _he_ felt like the only thing _she_ had in this world to hold onto.  

His pace turned frantic, they were both close.  “Don’t stop,” she hissed out between her moans against his neck.  “I can’t - I’ll never - get -  enough of this - “ she mumbled out, her teeth grazed against his skin with every word punctuated by a cry as she felt herself so close to the moment she’d fall completely apart.    
  
“Never,” he promised between his own moans.  “Love you, God I love you so much,” he muttered as he moved his hand from her hair to the shower wall to brace them.  He could feel the tile buckle a little under the pressure of his hand as it pushed into it, but he didn’t _care_ right then and he sure as hell didn’t have it in him to stop.  Not when he was _so close_.  He managed to hold on until he felt her start to spasm against his length and he thrusted a few last times, a haphazard pace as he emptied into her.  

He pressed against her still, to use the wall to hold some of her weight as he could feel his own legs dangerously close to giving out on him with his limbs nothing more than jello after that.  Natasha uncurled her legs and touched her feet to the ground.  Their mouths met in a hazy kiss, lips moved lazily against the others.  Steve’s hand moved back into her hair, lighter this time and she let her own roam idly patterns against his back.  She reached around him to turn the water hotter, they’d been in there a while and it had started to cool slightly.    
  
They took a few minutes there, just holding each other up, soft touches and soft kisses.  Eventually they untangled from each other and moved more under the spray of the shower to get clean.  They stayed in until the hot water started to run out and wrapped each other in towels.  Natasha stepped into Steve and he wrapped her arms around her as they stood in the quiet shower room.    
  
“Steve?” she started, her head tucked in under his chin.  
  
“Yeah,” he answered and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  
  
“Did you throw your shield against the lockers in a fit of jealousy?” she asked and looked up at him, a brow raised.

He shrugged sheepishly.  “Might have been a big part of it, yeah,” he admitted.    
  
Natasha grinned and leaned up on her toes to lightly press her lips against his.  She smirked as she pulled back just enough to talk.  “You tell anyone I said this and I will kill you, but that’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard,” she said lightly and leaned up for another kiss.  


	7. you light the spark in my bonfire heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party shenanigans. That is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you so much everyone for keeping up with my slow updating. I appreciate everyone taking the time to read this story :)

_Days like these lead to..._  
_Nights like this lead to_  
_Love like ours._  
_You light the spark in my bonfire heart._  
_People like us—we don’t_  
_Need that much, just some-_  
_One that starts,_  
_Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts_  
[James Blunt - Bonfire Hearts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1j1qwQQ8-Q)  


Steve leaned against the bar, his hand curled around a bottle of beer that he would bring up to drink from now and then.  The party had entered what one could call full swing and Tony’s penthouse was crowded with people and conversation.  It wasn’t that Steve felt particularly anti social, it was more he felt a little… _distracted._  Natasha had walked into the penthouse a few minutes earlier, caught Steve’s eye at the bar and had given him a sly smile before she turned her back to him to greet Rhodey.  It was then that the trouble started.  From the front the black dress she wore was, of course, beautiful.  Steve knew she would make _anything_ look amazing though.  The black sequins offset her pale skin, a high boat neckline, her legs bare from just above the knee, hair in perfect curls around her face.  She looked gorgeous, but it was as she turned that his throat went dry, that he knew just _why_ she’d given him that little sly smile.  There was a wide, low, cut on the back of the dress, leaving the expanse of her back bare save for a delicate silver chain that rested between her shoulder blades and travelled down to end in a few small stones.    
  
His thoughts immediately went to all the times his mouth had trailed down her back, the times he’d run his fingers between those shoulder blades, the way he’d press his palm against the pale skin as he bent her over his kitchen counter, the couch, his bed, _anywhere_ , and pushed himself inside of her.  How often he had whispered how much he cared for her, how beautiful she was, how much she made him feel, with his lips grazing over the skin of her back.  How his hand would settle so perfectly into the small of her back like it was made just for his touch when they curled into each other at night.  There was no doubt in his mind that she knew _exactly_ what that dress would do to him when she put it on for the night.    
  
She made no move to join him at the bar though, a fact the he knew was nothing less than purposeful.  So the next time she gave a subtle glance back to him while she listened to one of Rhodey’s stories he gave a sly smirk of his own and lifted the beer bottle to his lips.  He watched as Natasha pulled her phone from her clutch and not missing a beat in her conversation with Rhodey her fingers flew across the screen.    
  
Barely a minute later his own phone buzzed in his jacket pocket and Steve smiled to himself as he pulled it out.    
  
_See something you like, Rogers?  ;)_  
  
He glanced over at her and caught her eye again as she gave him a smile, she turned back to Rhodey and laughed at something he said.  She even went as far as to let her hand rest lightly on Rhodey’s arm.  Steve glanced down at his phone and sent a reply.

You’re terrible.  
  
He hit send and watched her as she read it, an amused smiling crossing her lips.  A quick flash of her fingers and his own phone buzzed again as the message popped up.

_Come do something about it then._

Steve chuckled a little to himself at the text, pocketed his phone and set his beer down on the bar.  He looked over at Natasha again and was just about to move toward her and Rhodey when Tony stepped in front of him and leaned against the bar.  “Enjoying the party, Cap?”  Tony motioned to the bartender and then looked over at Steve.  

“One of your better ones,” he replied as he gave the other man a warm smile.  Tony’s parties weren’t always Steve’s cup of tea, but he appreciated the sentiment behind them none the less.  He appreciated that Tony always made the team feel included and involved in his life, especially now after Ultron had nearly torn them apart.  

Tony followed Steve’s gaze as it went back to Natasha and then he turned slightly to take his drink from the bartender.  “Romanoff certainly seems to be enjoying herself,” he started and then chuckled at the look the words elicited from Steve.  Tony took a drink before he continued.  “What’s the deal with you two anyways,” he prompted.

“Me and Natasha?” Steve clarified, mostly to buy himself some time.

“No, you and Rhodey,” Tony snarked back.  “Of course you and Natasha, I think this is the first time in months I’ve seen you two in the same room and you’re not attached at the hip.”

Steve took a drink from his bottle and shrugged as he set it down.  They weren’t actively trying to _hide_ their relationship per se, but they weren’t necessarily announcing it either.  For the most part Steve figured that the active members of the Avengers who saw them on a daily basis had figured it out already, but Tony didn’t see them on a daily basis.  “We’re friends,” he said.  Which wasn’t a lie, they _were._  They just happened to be a lot more as well.     
  
Tony gave him a look.  “Right.  Sure thing, Cap.”  he took another drink. “You know how much I hate being the last to know things.”  
  
“Well lucky for you then, there’s nothing to know,” Steve replied. He set his beer bottle down on the bartop and gave Tony a smile.  “I’ll see you around, Tony,” he said and then headed in the direction of Natasha and Rhodey.  

Steve walked up beside Natasha and Rhodey, his fingers casually touched the elbow of the former and he looks from her to Rhodey. “Mind if I steal her away for a bit,” he said lightly.

Rhodey shook his head. “Not at all, Captain.”

“You and Tony have a nice talk?” Natasha asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as Steve’s hand lingered on the crook of her elbow and he led her through the crowd.  
  
“Nice might be pushing it,” Steve said, but he was distracted as he scanned the room and moved them toward the exit into the hallway.  

His hand moved to the small of her back and guided her toward the bathroom just a few feet away.  Steve gave a quick glance around and not seeing anyone he pushed them inside.  The door had barely closed before he pressed Natasha up against it and claimed her mouth with his.  He fumbled for the lock of the door and clicked it before his hand moved to tangle in her hair as his tongue darted into her mouth.  “You’re terrible,” he echoed his earlier text, breathless, as he pulled back slightly.

“And here I was hoping for a wow, Natasha, you look amazing tonight,” she teased him as her fingers ghosted along his jawline.  Her eyes were dark with desire, but not without a hint of smugness.  She had, after all, coerced Captain America the pinnacle of all that was good and moral in the world into all but manhandling her into a bathroom for what she was more than sure would end in sex.  All with nothing more than a backless dress, a few well placed smiles and two text messages.    
  
Steve’s lips trailed along the side of her neck as he spoke.  “Wow, Natasha, you look amazing tonight,” he breathed against her skin. He moved his hands to encircle around her wrists and brought them up above her head. He pressed her hands into the door as he grinded his hips into hers.  

Natasha moaned into his mouth.  She could feel the heat curl in her core and spread over her body. Every nerve ending on fire and she could feel him, hard already, as their hips ground into each others, trying to find even a little bit more friction.  His hands tightened their grip on her wrists as their tongues battled for dominance.  She knew the likelihood of Steve taking her little challenge on had been high - he wasn't exactly the uptight old man most tended to write him off as. She was just surprised it had been the washroom just down the hall, she had expected one of Tony's many empty rooms, something a little bit more out of the way.

But she was not complaining, especially as he nipped at her lower lip and all but _growled_ into her mouth, his grip tight on her wrists and his body pressed so damn hard into her she was surprised they hadn't broken the damn door.  Her fingers ran through his hair and gripped tight the short strands along the back of his neck.  Everything was tinged in the haze of pure want and desire, and she yielded willingly to it.

He stilled his movements for just a split second as the sound of voices came close. She thought he might back out at that, drop her hands and put what would be a proper distance between them.  But it was barely a pause before he pressed his hips into hers again, her back pressed hard into the door and it took every ounce of self control she had right then to stay quiet, especially as Steve sucked her earlobe between his lips.  The voices passed after a few moments and Steve chuckled softly as his lips trailed down her neck.  
  
But he seemed to change what he wanted quickly and Natasha let out a whimper as Steve suddenly turned her around and bent her over the bathroom counter.  His hand trailed down the length of her spine as he leaned over her.  The skin he had been so desperate to feel beneath his hands since she'd walked into the party.  She could feel his breath against her back as his lips followed the trail his hand had made, she could feel the length of him as he pressed his hips into her backside.  “God you drive me crazy,” he mumbled softly against her pale skin, warm and flush with the anticipation of what was to come.

Her eyes lifted to the mirror where she could see him as he all but _prowled_ over her, could see the ways his eyes were dark with desire when his own flickered up for a moment. She could feel the wetness pool between her legs at the sight of it, at knowing just _how much_ he wanted her. And how much she wanted him. How much she _loved_ him.

“Steve…” she breathed out as he broke their eye contact and his lips sucked a mark into the skin on her back. His hands moved down her sides and her dress bunched up as one of his hands moved around and slid up her thigh.

His hand brushed against her and he groaned as his fingers touched not fabric of lingerie but slick, wet, heat. “Jesus, Nat,” he breathed out.

“I thought you might appreciate that,” she purred.  His thumbs flicked against her sensitive nub and she let out a moan as his fingers explored her wet folds. “Taking that as a yes,” she managed to get out as his thumb moved to run circles along her clit.

“I’m serious, Natasha,” he started as his thumb kept working her, in those slow, teasing, touches he knew went right to her.  “You drive me crazy,” he repeated as his lips trailed against the skin her of back again.  “You’re all I think of,” his hand that wasn’t currently occupied by making her weak in the knees moved back up her side, and up to the column of her throat.   “All I _want,”_ he said in a low gravely voice as he sunk a finger into her which earned him a low moan from Natasha.  

He could see their reflection in the mirror and he knew exactly what he wanted then. His fingers wrapped around her neck lightly to tilt her chin up so she would look at the mirror.  “I want you to see what I see,” he said lowly in her ear as he slipped another finger into her wetness, another moan. Her head tried to fall back, but his grip kept it upright and her eyes fluttered shut. “Open your eyes, Nat,” he urged, and stilled his thumb against her clit and the fingers he had been thrusting in and out.  

“Good,” his thumb started to rub against her clit again as she opened her eyes to look at her own reflection.  “That’s good,” he spoke again, “you’re so beautiful, Nat, keep watching.”  He started to slide his fingers in and out again, his eyes on hers in the mirror as she watched herself.  
  
She kept her eyes locked on her own reflection, which was hard to do when Steve proved such a distraction - with that _way_ he looked at her. Eyes darkened with desire and sheer _want_ , like he could never get her close enough, like no matter how many times they came together it would never be _enough._ Like he could never - _would_ never - get sick of her, he would never leave her, or want to be anywhere else but exactly where he was.

And oh the way it went right to her as he sucked her earlobe between his lips and she shuddered in pleasure against him. It was a short lived move though as his eyes darted up to see her watching him. “What did I say,” he said as his lips grazed against her neck. His tone wasn't harsh by any means, but it wasn't without a sense of demanding - and it was _completely_ hot she couldn't help but think. She tore her eyes off Steve and focused back on her own face.

There were so many things he wanted to do to her right then, so many ways he wanted to make her fall completely apart. But he was well aware of their surroundings, of the people who kept passing by the door. So he took solace in  the fact that they had the whole night ahead of them after putting in a respectable appearance at the party, that he could take all the time he wanted later and he was content to let this be what it was. A quickie in one of the guest bathrooms in Tony Stark's penthouse.  And there wasn't even a small part of him that felt bad for outright lying to Tony earlier when he said there was nothing going on.   

Natasha let out a small whimper as Steve pulled his hand away from her, but the rustle of his pants let her know he had no plans on stopping. She heard the soft sound of his pants as they hit the floor before his hands moved to hitch up her dress more.  Her hands gripped the edge of the counter and she refocused her eyes in her reflection.

Steve's arm wrapped around her and his other hand moved between them to guide his cock into her warmth. Natasha watched as her lips parted as he filled her, as he pulled a moan from her as his lips dragged wet kisses along the side of her neck.  He met her gaze in the mirror as he started to buck his hips against hers.

“You look so beautiful, Natasha,” he said against the soft skin of her neck. Words pressed like kisses. His eyes slid upward to look at her in the mirror, heavy lidded and dark with desire as he thrusted in and out of her.  “ _So_ beautiful when I'm inside you,” he breathed out and nuzzled his face into her neck.

He trailed his lips from her neck to her bare back.  His grip around her waist both kept her upright - because Natasha honestly wasn’t sure if she trusted her own legs to do that right then - and let him push in so deep into her.  “ _Steve,_ ” she moaned out as he filled her, hit her in _just_  the right spot and her fingers clenched the edge of the counter.  “God that feels so good,” she breathed out.  She was close, so close to finding release as he kept up his pace, as his lips grazed over her back in the feather light way the he knew set every inch of her on fire.   “Right there, Steve, God, _right there,_ ” she managed to get out as he angled in deeper, as he pulled out and all but slammed right into that spot that always pushed her over the edge.

His hand moved from where he had braced it against the counter, slipped between her legs and he brushed his thumb over her wet folds.  “I’m so close,” he murmured against her skin as his pace became more erratic.    
  
Natasha was sure if her feet weren’t in heels they wouldn’t be touching the ground, he had that tight of a hold around her waist, had her pulled into him that much.  And with every slam of his hips against hers she found herself being lifted up just that much more.  She couldn’t quite find the words to reply to him, and instead opted for an affirmative sort of moan and a quick nod of her head and hoped he’d read it as _me too._  

It was only a few more thrusts before Steve spilled inside of her, her own muscles clenched around him as her own orgasm shuddered through her. They were still as they came down, Steve's arm supported her weight until she slowly found her bearings again and untangled herself from him with a soft laugh.

“That was….” She started and looked over at at Steve.

“...yeah,” he finished with a laugh. Alright, maybe it wasn't the most eloquent, but words seemed a little out of reach right then. He dropped a soft kiss to her the bare skin of the back of her neck and smiled warmly at her as their eyes caught each other in the mirror.  He ducked his head and laughed again as they started putting themselves back together.  He’d never much thought he’d be the kind of man to drag his girlfriend - the term he’d used for her for _months_ now in his thoughts - into a washroom in the middle of a party for a quickie, but he’d never much thought he’d be where he was right now with a woman in the first place.  In a relationship, happy, domesticated even in some ways.  Comfortable with himself in a way he’d never known before, even before he’d lost decades.    
  
They moved quietly around the washroom as they cleaned up and straightened themselves out.  Natasha smoothed the dress back over her thighs, the material smoothed out easily like she had known it would when she picked the dress out.  Steve handed her the clutch that she had dropped haphazardly to the floor when he’d pushed her up against the door and she smiled in thanks.  She opened it up and pulled out a tube of lipstick.  She leaned forward a little to see better and drew a coat of colour across her lips before she darted her eyes to the side to catch Steve as he tried to flatten his hair back into shape.  

“Hey, Steve,” she started and dropped the lipstick back into her clutch.  She turned her head to meet his gaze and smiled softly.  She knew the _feeling_ behind what she was about to say had been there for a while, it was only now the words wanted to come out.  And she was surprised by the lack of nerves, she had just assumed this would turn her into a nervous wreck but instead she felt calm, confident, _ready._  

“I love you, too,” she replied to his until then unanswered declarations.  She knew this was a big step, that there was no going back from this.  What she said would define this _thing_ they had as what it really was - a _relationship_ .  There would be no more pretending.   And she was okay with that.  He was hers, and she was his.  They belonged to, and with, each other and for the first time Natasha knew she had a place in the world.  With him.  For so many years she had just assumed that letting herself have that would make her weaker, would make her less of what she was.  She didn’t feel that though as the words came out.  Instead she felt strong, she felt confident.  Loving Steve didn’t detract from her, it _added_ to her.

  
Steve couldn’t help the dopey grin at the words.  He had known she felt it, but _hearing_ it was entirely different.  It made everything that much more official somehow, it made _them_ that much more official.  There was a weight to the moment as they held each other’s gaze and Steve could see when it started to teeter on the edge of _too much_ for her.  So he ducked his head with a chuckle and then looked back up at her, a what Natasha had dubbed as the _I’m about to be a little shit_ grin on his face.  “Hell if I had known dragging you into the washroom to have my way with you was what it would take I would have done this ages ago…”  
  
“Oh shut up, Rogers,” she cut him off with a light smack of her hand against his chest and a smile.    
  
Steve caught her hand and tugged her in.  He cupped her face with his hands and grazed his lips against hers gently.  “I love you,” he said as he pulled back.  They smiled at each other, contentedly.  “Now let’s get out there and put in the minimum time required before we can make a polite exit,” he suggested.  

He held the door for her as they left the washroom, and let his hand settle on the small of her back as they started back toward the main room.  They turned the corner to come face to face with Tony and they stopped.  Tony glanced between them and then looked over their heads to where they had come from and then back at them.  Steve chanced a quick look at Natasha at his side, who to her credit seemed more than cool and composed.    
  
“Did you two…” Tony started and then nodded back towards where they had come from.  Natasha shrugged and Steve followed her lead of not saying anything.  Tony eyed them, first Natasha and then Steve.  He shook his head.  “Naw… you couldn’t have,” he looked back to Natasha.  “Maybe…” He moved back to Steve.  “Please tell me you two didn’t defile my guest bathroom,” he said, his face scrunched in distaste.    
  
Natasha gave Tony a smirk and turned to face Steve.  She reached her hands up and fixed the knot of his tie a little bit more.  “No, of course not,” she answered Tony.  She leaned up and kissed Steve, hands pressed into his chest by his tie and grinned as she pulled back after a moment.  “I would go with sullied,” she clarified as she turned to look at Tony, more than amused by his expression at the little display.  She gave him a wink and then looked back at Steve.  “Meet me at the bar?” she asked and waited for him to nod before she sauntered off into the main room.  
  
Tony watched her leave and then turned his attention back to Steve.  “You _lied,_ ” he astonished, hand raised and finger pointed at the other man.  “You looked me right in the eye and lied,” Tony continued.  “Captain _America,_ lying to his friends and sneaking off… oh, God, I’m going to have to tear down that bathroom…”  
  
Steve just shrugged, his palms facing upward.  “ _Technically_ , I didn’t lie, I just didn’t disclose all the facts,” he pointed out.    
  
“Friendship over, Spangles,” Tony countered.  “Now go, meet your girlfriend or whatever before she gets on your ass for dawdling because I can’t see that being pretty.”    
  
Steve laughed.  “We should go for dinner sometime, the four of us,” he suggested as he started to walk away.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, Pepper will love that…” Tony watched as Steve started into the main room.  “And hey, Rogers!” he called out.  “I better not have been the last to know,” he yelled out.

Steve turned slightly, gave Tony a smirk with a little salute before he disappeared into the crowd.


	8. i'll just wish you stay (because i love your everything)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter update, a transition piece into the conclusion coming up here right away. Which is weird to think we're this close to the end!!!! As always thanks so much everyone for reading along!

 

 _Just open your eyes, no don't be scared at all._  
_We'll jump out of aeroplanes and the lakes will break our fall,_  
_No don't make a sound because I'll be with you the whole way down._  
_And I told you everything._

  
_And I know it's quite soon but you've got a lovely heart_  
_And I hope that you feel it too and a flame follows these sparks._  
_Just don't tell me lies because I've been let down too many times._  
_And I told you everything._  
_[Bones - Lewis Watson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Pl9Jkq060s)_

 

The idea of marrying Natasha had been there - well - for a _while._  Deep down Steve was still that good Catholic boy who had gone to Mass every Sunday and knew that the proper way of doing what he and Natasha were doing was with a ring on her finger.  It was _more_ than that of course.   _Far_ more than some outdated notion of the proper thing to do.  How could it not be.  He loved her.  More than he had thought himself capable of loving someone.  He knew there would never be anyone, or anything, he would want more than her.  So marriage, to him, was the next logical step in their relationship.

Steve knew, however, that Natasha might have had a differing opinion on that.  Especially at this stage in their relationship.  It hadn’t been that long after all, since they’d even started being open about their relationship.  And well under a year since the whole thing had started.  Even by the standards of his day it would be quick, and downright insanity in this modern day. Steve knew that just like he doing something stupid, like proposing, this early would only do more damage than anything else.  Especially with Natasha.  
  
It didn’t stop the thoughts though.  The little idea in the back of his head of being able to call Natasha his _wife_ and everything that would entail.  It didn’t stop him from thinking about being able to proclaim to the world that he belonged to one person and one person alone, and that that person was Natasha Romanoff.  Marriage to Steve was more than just some old fashioned ideal of the nuclear family, it was more than just the _way things ought to be,_ a tradition to be upheld because that’s what one did when they loved someone.  It was a bond, one sworn before a power larger than any of them and one entered into with the utmost respect and commitment.  
  
Knowing he was letting himself jump the gun didn’t stop thoughts from becoming _more_ than thoughts either.  And it _should have_ , but didn’t stop his eyes from darting to a window display case as he walked, and as the jewelry inside came into focus he slowed to a stop.  In the middle of the case was a simple diamond solitaire ring, one that caught his attention and refused to let go.  One that threw all logic and self control to the wayside.  The rings around it seemed gaudy, far too flashy, and the diamonds in them seemed to lack the subtle elegance the solitaire ring had.  He knew it was a thought he shouldn’t have, but as he continued to stare at the ring he knew that if he were to ask Natasha to marry him, _this_ would be the ring.

The diamond was cut into a perfect circle that immediately reminded him of his shield. Which seemed fitting somehow. It had been behind that shield that he had fallen in love with her. All the times he’d held her close underneath it's safety as the world fell apart around turn. All those moments they'd passed it back and forth seamlessly as they worked together to take down their enemies. At times it seemed as much a part of her as it was him. And Steve couldn’t help but think of the little things Natasha had - a tiny little arrow necklace, the beaded bracelet that Lila had made her, the thumb ring that Wanda had picked out for her on one of their many shopping trips. These little mementos that proved the Black Widow indeed had a heart, and sometimes she wore that heart on her sleeve.

Before he could really stop himself, he walked into the store. And before he could convince himself _not_ to, he found himself asking the clerk to see the ring. Which really was his downfall. Because as soon as he held it in between his fingers he knew without a doubt. _This was the ring._  He paid for it without hesitation and then slipped the little black box into his jacket pocket.    
  
It wasn’t until he was a few blocks from the store, when he spotted Natasha already sitting at a table by the window in the little cafe they had made plans to meet at that afternoon that it hit him what he had just done.  He had a ring.   _He had a ring._  Tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket - and where the hell was he supposed to hide it for however long it took for him to actually work up the nerve to ask her.  He lived with the world’s best spy, hiding things was not an option. 

The ring suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as Natasha stood when he walked over, as she pressed herself into him and leaned up to kiss him.  He found himself trying to pull his chest back, suddenly worried she’d feel the lump of the box.  But he kissed her back, attempting to act normal while he did anything _but._  
  
He was distracted through most of their lunch date.  His mind a push and pull of excitement for the ring tucked into his jacket, and the worry that he had done something incredibly stupid.  That he had gotten way ahead of himself, and ahead of the relationship.  That it was one thing to _know_ he would ask her eventually, but another to have bought a ring.  He missed bits of conversation, struggled to keep up with a story she told, left most of his meal untouched.    
  
When they made their way back to his apartment and Natasha excused herself to the bathroom, the panic set in.  Where could he put a ring box that she wouldn’t be able to find it until he could move it out of the apartment.  Return it maybe, chalk the afternoon up to his own idiocy and forget this happened, forget the notion of rings and proposals until some time far down the line.  He wandered the apartment with his mind racing and the box in hand, and when he heard the tap run he panicked and shoved the box into the back of his sock drawer.  Not the most ideal spot, but it would have to do for now. 

Natasha raised a brow as she walked into the room, Steve standing in the middle like a kid who just got caught with his hand in a cookie jar, and his jacket still on.  “You alright?” she asked, a brow raised slightly.

Steve nodded, and then it dawned on him that he still had his jacket.  He shrugged out of it and draped it over the chair in the room.  “Fine,” he replied.  
  
Natasha kept her gaze on him for a moment.  He was acting weird, and had been at lunch too.  She pressed her lips together as she debated pressing it, but decided to let it go for the moment.  “Okay,” she mussed, though she didn’t but his _fine_ in the least.  She tugged off her shirt and moved toward the dresser.  
  
Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach as she went to the dresser -  and before the logic of her most likely going for the top drawer to grab a t-shirt and not the second drawer where his socks - and the ring - were could kick in, his gut reaction acted first.  He quickly crossed over the room to her and grabbed her by the arm before she could open the drawer.    
  
Natasha was taken aback by the move and glanced up at him, a confused expression on her face.  “Steve?” she said his name like a question, the concern clear on her face and in her tone.  This was past weird now.    
  
His heart hammered in his chest as he realized he had more than overreacted.  “I - uh - “ he stammered out as he tried to think of an excuse for the action.  “Nat - “ he started and then pulled her in closer and pressed his lips to hers.  He figured maybe it was a low move, to use their physical relationship as nothing more than a distraction.  But it worked, and she melted into his embrace.  Her hands curled into his shirt and he deepened the kiss.  
  
As far as distraction techniques went, he was sure there were worse.  At the very least Natasha didn’t seem to have any complaints as he pushed her back toward the edge of the dresser and lifted her up onto the top.  A satisfied sigh came from her parted lips as he let his own trail down the side of her neck and his hand moved to run up the inside of her thigh.  His other hand moved to run up her side, fingers warm against her bare skin and he cupped her breast when he reached it, a gentle squeeze.  His mouth moved down her neck, along her collarbone and then his lips grazed along the skin above the line of her bra cup.    
  
“Steve…” she mumbled as his hand slid further up her thigh.  Her hands roamed along the wide expanse of the back of his shoulders, and she tugged him in closer as his mouth moved back to claim hers.  Her hands moved toward the hem of his shirt and she pulled at it impatiently. 

Steve reluctantly pulled back from the kiss.  He reached for the back of his shirt to pull over his head but stopped as the alarm on his phone broke through the room.  He dropped his hands and groaned as he let his forehead fall to rest against Natasha’s.  He had been so distracted by the ring that he had completely forgotten the meeting he and Tony had set up for that afternoon.  “I have that meeting with Tony,” he explained as the alarm kept sounding.  
  
“Steven Grant Rogers,” Natasha started, an amused but frustrated tone to her voice, “you are not about to walk out on me _now_ to meet Tony,” she chided and pulled him in to kiss again.    
  
Steve groaned as he pulled back after a moment.  “I know, I know,” he let out and laughed softly before he moved to his jacket.  He took his phone out and dismissed the alarm.  
  
“You can be late,” Natasha pointed out, a mischievous grin on her lips. 

“I was late last week,” Steve countered as he slipped his arms back into the jacket.  
  
“It’s just Tony,’ Natasha argued but she hopped off the dresser none the less.  She knew this was one of the things they just had to deal with.  Their jobs came first.  The fact they both understood that about each other was what made their relationship work so well.

He gave one last quick glance to the dresser as he started out of the room.  He had no excuse to go into the drawer, and he knew even if he _did_ the chances of being able to sneak the ring out with Natasha with him were slim to none.   It killed him, but he knew he had no choice but to leave the ring where it was.  He moved to the entrance way and Natasha followed.  She gathered his keys and wallet as he put on his shoes and handed them to him with a kiss.  
  
“We’ll continue this later,” he promised when they broke apart.  
  
“We better,” she added with a smile as he walked out the door.  “Tell Tony he owes me big time,” she called out after him with a laugh and then closed the door.

She moved back to the bedroom once he was gone and stopped in the doorway.  Her eyes fell on the dresser.  She leaned against the doorframe and pressed her lips together.  He had been acting off the whole time at lunch, and while she had been content to pretend like she bought his distraction technique, she hadn’t for even a second.  Her teeth pulled at her lower lip and bit into the skin.  There was a part of her that _knew_ .  Men tended to hide one thing and one thing alone in a dresser.  She tried to tell herself that was a silly thought though.  They’d barely started being open about their relationship, she had _just_ started referring to Steve as her boyfriend in certain circles. She had barely gotten through an image of them kissing at Tony’s party making the rounds on the internet without a panic attack and he _knew_ that.  He couldn’t _possibly_ be considering something _like that_ on her.  Not now.   _Not ever_ came the tiny, self deprecating voice in the back of her mind.  
  
No.  No it wasn’t that.  It couldn’t be _that._ She forewent getting into comfy clothes and instead of reaching for a t-shirt in the dresser she picked her blouse back up from the floor to put that back on so she wouldn’t have to go into the dresser.  She distracted herself by tidying up a little, and then tried to focus on a book Laura had lent her.  But her mind kept going back to the dresser and her eyes kept darting up toward the bedroom from her spot on the couch.    
  
She sighed heavily as she set the book on the coffee table.  She knew she was playing with fire as she moved into the room.  She knew she would have one reaction to finding what she thought she might find in the dresser.  But she also knew she couldn’t ignore it.  Her own ability to sabotage her own happiness at every corner pulled at her and made leaving this alone an impossibility.    
  
She moved into the room, her steps light and quiet.  She pulled the first drawer, rummaged a bit and then shut it not finding anything.   _Walk away_ her mind screamed at her.  But she _couldn’t._  She opened the second drawer.  Sock drawer.  God wouldn’t that be a cliche.  She hesitated as she warred with herself.    
  
You’re happy, she reminded herself, _actually happy_ for once in your life.  But the fears, the insecurities, the old mantra of _I have no place in the world_ , tugged and pulled.  Swarmed her with bad thoughts and feelings, it pulled her under, drowned her in the misguided notion that she did not deserve the happiness she had found.  That she should find the reason for this to fall apart because at the end of the day, well… _I have no place in the world._

Her hands dug through the socks.  It didn’t take long for one to close around a small, velvet box.  She pulled it out and sank down onto the edge of the bed.  She turned the box over a few times in her hands.  Such a small thing.  Such a tiny little thing that held so many connotations.  It felt weighted.  Heavy with Steve’s intentions and her own shortcomings.   She swallowed hard and opened the lid.  There was a moment - small and brief, gone all too soon - where her breath caught in her throat.  Where she pictured the ring on her finger, where the word yes lingered on her lips and she thought of a white dress, a small affair and the way it would feel to stand beside Steve as his _wife._  But it was gone as soon as it came.    
  
She stared at the ring.  A beautiful diamond, a beautiful symbol of something she could never be.  She looked at it and all she could see was _the end_ .  Any momentary images of the happy ending to this story, the initial idea of _yes_ , and the white dress, and being Steve’s wife had drowned in her own self sabotaging thoughts.  She wasn’t _wife_ material - and she sure as hell wasn’t _Captain America’s wife_ material.

The thoughts snowballed before she could even hope to get a hold of them.  What the hell had she been thinking, what had she been _doing._  Playing pretend like she deserved something like Steve.  Playing pretend like she could be any ounce of good for him.  She let out a shaky breath, closed her eyes and felt the world fall out from under her.  Mistake.  The whole thing had been a mistake. 

“Well…. Shit,” she breathed out as her eyes bored a hole through the ring box in her hand.  She was so lost in her own thoughts, her own self doubts and self flagellation that she didn’t hear the key in the lock.  So gone down her destructive path of thinking she didn’t hear the footsteps in the hall.  So lost in the dark corners of her mind that she didn’t even know he was there until her name fell with hesitation from his lips.

_“Natasha….”_


	9. twigs and stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this makes up for the semi cliffhanger of last chapter :)

_I am a house built out of twigs and stones._  
_I am a house, but I'm not a home._  
_I got love to give, and give, and give, and give, and give, and give._  
_I got love to give, and give, and give, and give, and give, and give._

 _I am storm cloud, but without a lightning bolt to help me see my way,_  
_I am a rain drop drop but without an earth below I am due to fall apart,_  
_I got love to give, and give, and give, and give, and give, and give._  
_[Twigs and Stones - Siskiyou](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cr5ZaIrsCyA)_

“ _Natasha…_ ” Steve managed to get out as he stared at her on the bed, the ring in her hand. His heart dropped as he took in the unreadable expression on her face. As far as plans went for her seeing that ring, this hadn’t even been on the radar and he kicked himself for doing such an idiotic thing in the first place. What the hell had he even been thinking. He should have keep it in his jacket until he could hide it better, he shouldn’t have made such a big deal about her being near the dresser.  He should have just kept walking past the store, he shouldn’t have walked in and he sure as hell should have even bought a ring in the first place.  He shouldn't have even _thought_ about something like a ring, not yet, not anytime even in the near future.

But he had thought about it, he had walked into that store, he had bought it and he had done a shit job hiding it and now they had to to talk about.  He treaded slowly into the room and sunk down onto the bed beside her. He didn't miss the subtle flinch she gave as he sat next to her and it killed him a little. He knew in that instant the depth of his mistake.  She wasn't ready.  She wasn't even _close_ to ready and he had forced a hand he hadn't even wanted to play. “Natasha - “ he started again slowly.

“Please tell me this isn't what I think it is,” she cut him off to plead, the ring box still in her hand. Her voice was small, uncertain, and it cut right through him.    
  
He pressed his lips together and shook his head.  “I can’t do that, Nat,” he said softly.    
  
The box felt like it weighed a hundred pounds suddenly.  Weighed down by all the meaning and expectations of one little piece of jewelry.  All the things she could never be.  All the certainty she’d let herself have over the past months, all the confidence she’d scraped together regarding her place in this relationship faltered and completely fell away.  It didn’t matter how far she had come, how much she had allowed herself to give because Steve would always want _more._ Steve would always _deserve_ more.  And she had always known that.  It was only her foolish heart that allowed her to think she could be even close to what he _should_ have.  She was broken beyond repair and a pretty little ring on her finger would only serve to highlight her shortcomings.    
  
“I can’t - “ she started but stopped.  She didn’t even know what to say.  How did one tell the man they loved that they could never be his wife.  That a ring that was supposed to mean a beginning would only mean the end.    
  
“I’m not asking,” he pointed out at her words and he gently took the box from her.    
  
“But you’ve thought about it,” she countered, her hand suddenly felt so empty, light now that the weight of the ring was out of it.  Gone, but not nearly forgotten though.  He _had a ring_ .  He had clearly _thought_ about it.  He maybe wasn’t asking her right at that moment, but he _would_ ask her.    
  
Steve turned the box over in his hand and nodded.  He couldn’t lie to her, even if he didn’t have the _damn ring in his hand_ he couldn’t lie to her.  He chanced a glance at her.  She had her eyes steeled forward, that same unreadable expression on her face.  “I love you, Natasha,” he started and reached a hand to gently pull at her chin so she would look at him.  “More than anyone or anything,” he gave her a tight smile.  “And you’re right, I’ve thought about it.  So when I passed a store and this ring caught my eye I bought it,” he explained.  “But that doesn’t mean I’m asking right now,” he assured her.    
  
Natasha swallowed hard and pushed herself off the bed.  She took a few steps away and turned back to face him, her arms tight around herself.  “It doesn’t matter Steve,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically high and tight.  “If it’s today, or tomorrow, or next year, you’re _going to ask_ ,” she argued.  She never should have looked in the drawer.  She should have let herself live in ignorant bliss and continued to pretend that this relationship had anything but the ending they were about to have.  Her mind raced in a million directions. Escape plans and all the counter arguments for every argument he would put forth.  All the while that nagging voice in the back of her mind that had been silent for so long and now it reared its ugly head.   _Love is for children_ .  And she’d been an idiot to think anything but.  An idiot to think she could have happily ever after and all that it entailed.  An idiot for thinking she would ever be someone who deserved a man like Steve Rogers.  
  
He watched her, the closed off body language, the way her voice cracked on her words.  He could _see_ the wheels in her head turn.  He could _see_ the way she slightly shook, as though every inch of her wanted nothing more than to _run._  He let the box fall onto the bed and stood to move closer to her.  He reached his hands out to tug her in but dropped them when she took a step back.  His head hung with a small nod, lips pressed together tight.  He looked up after a moment and caught her gaze.  “Would that be _so bad_ \- if I did?” he asked gently and watched her expression.  
  
Natasha’s arms tightened around her midsection.  “I’m not wife material, Steve,” she proclaimed instead of answering.  “I’m not the girl you marry,” her words were curt, to the point. 

“I wouldn’t have a ring if I didn’t think you weren’t the girl I’d marry” he countered.  He knew she was damaged, he knew they _both_ were.  But Natasha’s was a special brand borne out of her years in the Red Room, of being told she wasn’t allowed to have what he was offering.  A place in the world.  A connection, love… a _family_.  And as far as she had come, he knew that those old words that had been drilled into her and all those old habits still pulled at her.  
  
“Natasha, I love you,” he repeated again and took another step forward.  This time she didn’t step back in retaliation.  He held her gaze and lifted his hands to rest on her arms.  “And you’re right, I’m going to ask you. I’ll wait, however long, until you’re ready for me to ask you, but I am _going_ to ask you,” he paused and watched her, her expression still as emotionless as before, and he suddenly thought of a cause for concern.  “If it’s the wedding part that worries you I don’t even care about that, Nat, it doesn’t have to be anything big, we can go to the Courthouse in our jeans for all I care I just want _you._  For the rest of my life, I want you.  I want you to be my wife.”  
  
Natasha _wanted_ to let the words quell her fear.  All those pretty words that Steve knew to make her feel better about herself, about _them_.  The endless patience he seemed to have for her insecurities and hesitations.  How every step of the way of their relationship he had assured her it was _okay_ that she wasn’t there yet.  Even now.  But she couldn’t.  Not with this.  Everyone had a breaking point and this was hers.  “I’m _here,_ Steve, I’ll be here as long as you want me but I can’t… I can’t…” she all but pleaded.   _Please don’t make me do this_ , in between the lines, screaming in her mind. 

“Why does it matter…” she mumbled, her eyes focused on the ground.  “I’m here and you’re here and why does it matter… Steve, why isn’t that enough.. Why can’t it just be enough at that…” she wasn’t sure if she was even really _asking_ .  Or if she was just talking for the sake of filling the silence, to try to keep herself from falling down a slippery slope of becoming too defensive and that defensiveness turning into anger.  But she knew it came out as a plea and _desperate_ in some primal way. 

He watched her as she spoke, the way she refused to look him in the eye, the way she curled into herself as though to make herself as small as possible.  He wanted - he wanted _so badly_ \- to tell her it was enough and it would _always_ be enough.  His hands tightened on her arms, he wanted to pull her in, kiss away her doubts and her fears.  He wanted to forget this whole damn thing had even happened and just go back to before a ring made them both realize that they were at vastly different places.  He would marry her tomorrow if he could, he knew that.  And she - well, she was somewhere closer to never.  It hurt.  He didn’t _want_ it to hurt, but it _hurt_ none the less.  As much as she could tell him what they had was enough for her it was still a rejection, and he hated how much that hurt.  “Because I want _more_ ,” he answered her quietly. 

Natasha shook her head, she blinked rapidly as tears threatened to cloud her vision.  She physically _ached_ with the pain of the conversation, with the outcome that she knew was just around the corner.  They couldn’t go back, and she knew she couldn’t go forward.  There was no happy ending here.  There was no way to repair what had been done.  There was only the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, the knowing that she was about to lose the best damn thing that had ever happened to her.  “I can’t - “ she repeated.    
  
“Yes, you can,” he replied.  He _knew_ her, he knew the depth of emotions she had, even if she couldn’t see it herself somedays.  He had known she she loved him before she said it, and he knew even now that there was some small part of her that _wanted_ this, he could only pray she found the courage to trust that part of herself. That she would allow herself to think about it, to realize that what he wanted she might want too.  That she wasn’t as damaged as to not be able to _want_ or _deserve_ the life he wanted for them.  He let his forehead fall to hers and pressed his lips together.  “You can, Nat, I know you can, you just have to _let_ yourself,” he said gently.  
  
“Don’t - “ she stopped him, her voice curt and cold.  “Don’t do that, Steve.  Don’t make me do this, don’t make me be someone I’m not,” she continued, and as she did she could feel the anger start to rise -  anger that she knew logically wasn’t the right thing to give into, but she couldn’t help it.  Angry was so much easier, it always had been.  She pushed herself out of his embrace and stepped away.  “God, Steve, _why._  Everything was _fine._  Better than fine, why can’t you just be happy with that?  Why does it have to be more?”  Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, and she _knew_ , she damn well knew she needed to stop but she _couldn’t._ “It’s not the goddamn forties, Steve, you don’t have to marry the first girl you sleep with!”  It was low.  She knew it was low.  Petty, immature, _terrible_.  But she said it.

He flinched at the call out.  His own temper flared and he knew giving into it would only make the situation that much worse, but the calm he’d held was rapidly disintegrating.  Fear that this would be the thing to tear them apart, after everything they had been through, mingled with his anger at her words and he knew whatever hope there was to keep this conversation from falling into a full out fight was small at best.  He ran his palm over his face and tried to calm himself before he looked back at her.  “Jesus, Nat,” he said, his voice shaking on the words.  It had been deflection,  and he knew it, but the jab hurt regardless.  More the _intent_ behind it hurt, the realization that she would stoop so low as to turn him down.  “Is that how much you don’t want this - is that how _terrible_ of a notion this is to you?” he paused and swallowed hard.  He hated that she thought marriage so awful that she could stoop to such an insult. 

“Would it really be the worst thing to be my wife, Natasha?” he couldn’t help but ask, his voice even as he looked at her.  He regretted the question the instant he said it because he knew.  He damn well _knew_ the answer she would give.  But he had to _hear_ it, some masochistic part of him that needed to be kicked while he was already down.

“Yes,” she answered.  Without hesitation, without a second thought.   
  
Steve nodded slowly.  Her words were like a punch to the gut.  He could _feel_ the world fall out from under him as he turned to look away from her.  He didn’t even know what to say, if there even was anything _to_ say.  How could they possibly ever hope to move past this.  And with that one thought he knew it was over.  There was no way to go back, they couldn’t _pretend_ like this conversation had never happened.  They could try, but it would always be _there_.  In every silence, in every moment of doubt.  They would always know he wanted something she so vehemently opposed.  His hand pressed to his mouth, rubbed at his face as he tried to control his emotions.  He could feel his body shake, and he had never thought something could hurt like this hurt.  

“Okay,” he said after a long pause and turned back to look at her, if only to fill the awful silence that had settled between them, his voice broke on the word and he could barely hold himself together.  “Noted,” he added as he held her gaze.  Hers emotionless and he longed to see _Natasha_ on her face and not the mask she wore when things got too hard.  
  
He nodded again and started to take a step toward her but changed his mind at the last second.  His lips pressed into a tight line and he walked out of the room.  Natasha could hear the front door of the apartment open and close - and it was unspoken, but they both knew she wouldn’t be there when he got back.  Her eyes fell to the ring box still on the bed.  She took a few steps forward to pick it back up.  Her eyes burned as she flipped the lid to see the ring inside.  A sob echoed in the silence of the room as she stared down at the ring.  She sank to the floor, pulled her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around herself as she let herself give into her own heartache.  


                                                           


 

Laura knew as soon as she opened the door to Natasha that something had happened.  The _what_ was fuzzy and she knew she’d get it out of the other woman eventually, but there had been _something_ and that was more than enough to warrant the giant hug she pulled Natasha into.  “Oh, sweetie,” she said softly as Natasha - who had long since learned she couldn’t hide anything from Laura - hugged her back.  “We were just about to sit down for dinner, come on in,” Laura continued and let go of Natasha so she could come into the house.  
  
“Steve with you?” Laura asked as they walked into the house.  Natasha shook her head, but didn’t elaborate and Laura didn’t press as she realized what that entailed.  There would be time for that and Laura knew Natasha worked at her own pace when it came to matters of the heart.  She was prepared to gently nudge the topic again, but would allow at least a little bit of time for Natasha to decompress, which she clearly needed.  
  
A little bit of time turned out to be three days as Natasha crashed with the Bartons.  She was there, but not really _there_ .  Her mind a jumbled mess of everything that had happened.  She had texted Steve that first night.  Not much more than an _I can’t talk right now, but I’m safe._  Just enough to keep him from worrying like she knew he would if he had gone to find her place empty.  She found herself unable to sleep, missing his arms wrapped around her tight in the middle of the night.  She found herself wandering the Barton house with some sense of _loss_ that she didn’t know how to handle.  Like she’d lost not just _him_ , but a part of _herself._  His words haunted her restless moments - _you can, Nat, you just have to let yourself._  As though it were all that easy.

She went through motions.  She got up, showered, dressed, ate.  The kids did their best to pull her from her mood but it was hard.  Even at her worst after the debacle with Bruce she had never felt like this.  She had never felt so _lost,_ and she was consumed by grief of the idea of losing Steve.  She hated herself for it, the weakness it felt like to give into the emotions.  She wasn’t supposed to need someone the way she needed him.  But yet there she was, feeling completely overwhelmed by the idea of losing him.  She longed to call him, to even just hear his voice.  Or to run back to the city and swear to him that they could figure this all out, promise the impossible and say they would be just fine as long as they were together.  But she knew that wasn’t realistic.  They were at an impasse, one they couldn’t ignore.  
  
“Alright, spill…” Laura said on the third afternoon as her and Natasha sat on the porch swing under a blanket.  It was unseasonably warm - the hint of the coming spring on the air - and the kids ran around the yard with Clint.  Laura and Natasha had a bottle of wine on the table in front of them, glasses full. 

Natasha let her eyes fall on the flickering light on the baby monitor on the table, her fingers curled around her glass. She took a sip of the red wine, a trail of warmth as it went down her throat.  “He wants to marry me,” she said plainly.  She knew there was no point in trying to dissuade Laura from the conversation.  The woman had a way of getting to the bottom of things, one way or another.  
  
Laura’s eyes went wide at the words.  “He _asked_ you?”  
  
Natasha shook her head.  “No, not really.  He had a ring in the sock drawer,” her mouth curled into a smirk.  Never let it be said that Steve Rogers was not an idiot.  “The _sock drawer_ , Laura, of anywhere he could have had a ring he hid in in the sock drawer..” she suddenly burst into a rant.  “Like he lives with someone who’s not one of the world’s greatest spies, like he _doesn’t_ live with _me_ …” she added and whatever she might have followed it up with was lost under the realization that she just admitted they lived together.  Something that had never been said _officially_ , but she spent more nights there than her own place, more than half of her wardrobe had migrated over, and when she thought _home_ it was his apartment she thought of.    
  
Laura just smiled softly to herself but didn’t say a thing.  She took a drink of her own wine and waited for Natasha to collect her thoughts.  “And then you being you, found it?” she prompted after a moment.  
  
“Of _course_ I found it,” she answered.  She paused and pressed her lips together.  “He walked in and I had it, and we fought - “ she had to pause again to let out a slow breath.  “It was - “ she shook her head.  “Bad.   _So_ bad, Laura.  Steve, being _Steve_ ; and me being, well, _me._ ”  She cringed at the memory still so fresh.  “I told him he didn’t have to marry the first girl he slept with,” she said softly.  “I was _ruthless,_ Laura,” she added, her voice heavy with regret and guilt over how it had all played out.  How much she had hurt him.  She let out another slow breath and took a drink of wine.  
  
“Natasha…” Laura said softly, her voice laced with empathy.    
  
Natasha shrugged somewhat before Laura could say much more.  “So that was that - he wants to get married and I - “ she shrugged again.  “I can’t.”   She took another drink and settled her gaze out in front of her.  She had a small hope Laura would leave it at that, but it she knew it was doubtful.  
  
Laura frowned slightly.  “What makes you say that?” she asked gently.  
  
“I’m not - _wife_ material, Laura,” Natasha pointed out.  “All of this - “ she said as she gestured a hand in front of her.  “The house, the whole marriage thing, everything you and Clint have, that’s not me, that’s never been me.”  
  
Laura shook her head and leaned forward to set her wine glass down.  She turned to face Natasha.  “Nat, I love you - “ she started and gave her friend a small smile, “but you’re an idiot.” Natasha’s brow perked at the words.  Laura ignored the reaction and kept going.  “First off, if I remember correctly you didn’t think you’d be relationship material in the first place either and I think you proved yourself wrong with that one,” she waved a dismissive hand as Natasha opened her mouth to say something.  “And second, all of _this_ \- “ she repeated Natasha’s gesture to indicate the scene of the porch and kids in front of them, “isn’t what marriage is.  This is what _my_ marriage is, but that doesn’t mean it has to be _your_ marriage.”  
  
“But - “ Natasha started to interject.

“No.  You don’t get to put a but in here yet,” Laura interrupted her.  “Now has Steve _ever_ given you any indication that he wants all of this?  The house, the kids?” she asked, a brow raised.  
  
Natasha’s lips pulled together as she shook her head.  “No.  We talked about kids a while back.  He doesn’t want to put kids through having Captain America for a father,” she answered.  “But - “ she started again.

Laura held up a hand.  “Nope, still no but, Natasha,” she declared.  “So you saying you’re not wife material, I’m assume your definition of _wife_ goes hand in hand with the type of _marriage_ we have now determined will not be the type of marriage you and Steve would have, so your argument is invalid,” Laura reasoned.  “This is where you nod and say yes, Laura,” she added after a pause.  
  
Natasha’s lips tugged into a small smile at her friend despite herself and she nodded.  “Yes, Laura.”  She paused.  “ _However..._ ” she tried in lieu of _but._  
  
“However nothing, Nat,” Laura vetoed.  “You’re wife material,” she declared. “Do you love him?  Is there anyone else you’d want to be with?  Are you willing to put up with his shit for the rest of your life if he puts up with your shit for the rest of his?” she smiled at the last question.  “Because that’s what marriage _is_ .  That’s what being _wife material_ is.  Just putting up with each other’s shit because no one else will, and loving the hell out of each other no matter how hard that gets.”  
  
Natasha laughed softly at that.  “It sounds so simple when you put it that way,” she said.  It pulled at her, the definition.  The assurance from her friend that marriage didn’t _have_ to be some traditional sense of the word, that marriage could just be _more_ of what she and Steve already had.  
  
Laura smiled.  “It kind of is, Nat, with the right person.”  She paused.  “And he’s your right person.  The way you’ve been since you two started seeing each other - I’ve never seen you like this.  I’ve never seen you this happy, this relaxed,” she trailed off for a moment.  “I’ve never seen you this _okay_ with yourself,” she added with a soft smile.  Laura could still remember the broken girl Clint had come home with years before. And while Laura would never discount the work that Natasha had done all on her own to be where she was now, it had improved by leaps and bounds since she had been with Steve.  “Don’t throw that away because you’re scared,” she pleaded.

Natasha took another drink as she let the words sink in.  “But - “ she started after she swallowed her mouthful of wine, and this time she was allowed to proceed.  “He’s _Captain America_ ,” she pointed out.  
  
Laura shrugged.  “Yeah, he is.  But I think he likes being Steve Rogers with you a hell of a lot more, and that’s the man who wants to marry you, not Captain America,” she countered. 

“What’d it look like?” Laura asked after they had lapsed into a silence for a few moments.  
  
“The ring?” Natasha clarified and Laura nodded.  Natasha paused and seemed to debate with herself before she tugged at the chain around her neck.  From under the baggy sweater she wore she pulled out the end of the chain - Steve’s dog tags and the ring hung on it.  She slipped it off over her head and handed it to Laura.  
  
“Yeah… cause you’re completely on the saying no side with that around your neck,” Laura pointed out with a small smirk.  
  
“Shut up,” Natasha said lightly.  She hadn’t exactly _planned_ to leave the apartment with the ring, or his tags.  But as she had tossed a few sets of clothes into a bag in her fog of emotions she had found herself digging out the chain from the small cigar box on their dresser, and then sliding the ring onto the chain before she’d pulled it over her head.    
  
“It’s beautiful,” Laura mussed as she inspected the ring.  “I should send him shopping with Clint for Christmas next year,” she joked.  She was about to say something else, but a cry on the monitor interrupted and she handed the chain back to Natasha.  “I’ll be right back,” she said and grabbed the monitor before getting up to head in and check on Nate.    
  
Natasha looked the ring over after Laura handed it back.  The other woman’s words worked their way through her thoughts.   _You’re wife material._  She mulled it over, this new idea of marriage.  She let her thoughts go back to that brief flash she’d had when she first found the box.  The white dress, a small gathering of the people they loved the most.  His _wife._  The way it would feel to know he had declared to the world that he belonged to her and only her.  And she the same.   _Would it really be so bad,_ she thought.  Her hand shook as she held the ring between her fingers, and then more as she slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand.  She let out the breath that she had been holding as inspected the way the ring looked. 

She could remember how heavy the box had felt days ago, how it felt like she could drown under its weight and all it meant.  The ring though, the ring didn’t feel like that.  And as she wiggled her finger a little and watched the diamond sparkle when it caught the light she couldn’t help the soft smile.  Her other hand deftly undid the clasp of the chain and she slid it out from between the ring and her finger.  She clasped it back and pulled the chain over her neck again.  The plan started to formulate with a mind of its own and before she could back out she grabbed her phone from the table.  She scrolled through her contacts until she came to who she needed, pressed call and lifted the phone to her ear.  
  
“Pepper, it’s Natasha,” she started after Pepper answered.  Her eyes moved to the ring on her hand and she smiled to herself.  “I need your help with something…”


	10. my heart and hers are the same

_I hope that I don't sound too insane when I say_  
 _There is darkness all around us_  
 _I don't feel weak but I do need sometimes for her to protect me_  
 _And reconnect me to the beauty that I'm missin'_  
_And in January we're gettin' married_

 

Steve hadn’t expected her to be at the apartment when he returned after their, but the fact she was indeed _gone_ when he came back hit him hard.  His head spun with everything that had been said, the things maybe he _should_ have said instead.  He moved through the bedroom - some of her things were gone, along with an overnight bag, but not _everything_ was gone.  And as he tidied up a little he realized the ring was gone as well.  He wasn’t sure what exactly that might have meant, but it filled him with a little bit of hope that maybe not all was lost.  Still though, he had no idea how they would be able to move forward from everything.  Not when they clearly wanted different things, when they had such vastly different opinions on the idea of marriage.  Her words cut through him, pulled at the insecurities that he was still plagued with.   _It’s not the goddamn forties, Steve, you don’t have to marry the first girl you sleep with._ He sunk down onto the bed.  He _ached_ with the aftermath of the fight.  
  
He laced his hands behind his head on the pillows - pillows that smelled like her shampoo.  He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, only that when his phone buzzed across the nightstand the room was suddenly dark when he could have sworn it had only been mid afternoon a few moments ago.  He picked up the device and read Natasha’s message. _I can’t talk right now, but I’m safe._  
  
His lips pressed into a tight line at the words.  He supposed it was good that she at the very least was letting him know she was okay.  He quickly sent off a reply.   _I’ll be here.  Whenever you’re ready._ He paused, debated and then added another message.   _I love you._

The evening turned into night, which turned into morning.  And for four days he puttered around feeling oh so lost and alone.  He looked for her constantly, because she had been there, _constantly._ The apartment felt empty, quiet.  He thought of how long he had lived like this before her, before they owned up to their feelings.  All those days and nights that he had been so isolated, so _alone._  He wondered if Natasha had any idea  how much she had changed his life, how she had given him so much to live for, so much more than just the next mission.  Did she know that she had _saved_ him, in some indescribable way.

He tried to give her the space that she most likely needed.  But it was tough, and he found himself with a finger hovered over the call button on more than a few occasions.  A few voicemails sent in his weaker moments, when he really just needed to hear the sound of her voice, even if it was only a recording.  Texts a few times a day, telling her he didn’t _care_ , that they would figure it out, that he just wanted - _needed_ \- her to come back home.    
  
The morning of the fifth day he was awoken from a pitiful sleep by his phone.  He scrambled for it and seeing Tony’s name on the display he set it back down.  He didn’t want to talk to anyone other than Natasha.  But the phone buzzed against the nightstand again.  Steve groaned and pulled his pillow over his head to drown out the noise.  When it became clear Tony was not giving up - and worried that something might actually be _wrong_ \- Steve finally answered.  
  
“What?” he all but snapped.  
  
“And good morning to you, too, Spangles,” Tony’s annoyingly cheerful tone came through.  

Steve groaned.  He already regretted answering the damn call.  “Is the world ending?” he asked.  
  
“No, but - “ Tony started.  
  
“Goodbye, Tony,” Steve cut him off and hung up.  He silenced the ringer and rolled over.  He wasn’t surprised when the knock came twenty minutes later, and he elected to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably just Tony.  Tony who was apparently in a very persistent mood as he continued to knock on the door for a good ten minutes.  Finally it was quiet, but it was short lived as Steve heard the door open and he realized Tony must have either bribed, or fast talked, the super into letting him in.    
  
“Yeah… heartbroken and pathetic is not a good look on you,” Tony said after he moved into the bedroom.  

Steve peered his eyes open to see the other man standing above him.  Tony was obnoxiously put together, even more so than usual, and Steve immediately felt on edge when he saw the garment bag in Tony’s hand.  There was a feeling of dread that he was about to be roped into something he definitely did not want to do today.  “What do you want?” he asked, his voice rough.  He knew he looked pathetic.  He _felt_ pathetic.  But he wanted to remain feeling pathetic.    
  
“There’s this thing today, charity thing, I completely forgot to send you the invite a while back, but I really need you to come to it,” Tony explained.  He held the bag up.  “I even brought you something to wear,” he laid it on the foot of the bed.  “So get up, shower, get dressed,” he clapped his hands few times and made a shooing motion in the direction of the ensuite as he talked.  
  
“Tony…” Steve protested, “I don’t want to go to a charity… thing.”  Well maybe not _last_ on the list of things he didn’t want to do, it was certainly well near it.    
  
“Look, I promised Pepper some Avengers, you know, it makes for a good press release,” Tony persisted.  “And…” he paused and waited until Steve looked over at him.  “Pepper said Natasha might show up,” he gave up as an incentive.

Steve eyed Tony, uncertain if he was being truthful with that, or just using it as a bargaining chip.  Still though, even the _chance_ at seeing Natasha was enough.  He grumbled, but pulled himself out of the bed and moved into the ensuite to shower.  He washed off the few days worth of patheticness and grime, shaved the stubble that had passed into scruff territory.  He wasn’t exactly proud of the state Tony had found him in, even less so when he realized to his dismay that it had been a good two days since he’d even bothered to brush his teeth.  Regardless of Natasha’s presence at the event or not, he had to admit it did feel good to clean up.  Of course it would feel better to be able to continue to mope around the apartment while clean than go make small talk at some Stark event.    
  
“You know I have a suit,” Steve pointed out as he unzipped the garment bag Tony had left in his room.  
  
“This one’s nicer,” Tony called back from the living room.    
  
To Steve a suit was a suit, so he would have to take Tony’s word for it.  Though once he had gotten the suit on and took a quick glance in the mirror he did realize Tony had a bit of a point.  The shirt was a nice ivory, offset by the dark navy of the jacket, tie, and pants, and while he wasn’t exactly the expert that Tony was he could still feel the difference in materials between the one he had brought over and the one in his closet.   _You should wear more blue,_ Natasha had said to him once.  Ages ago when they’d just been partners, when she’d insisted on taking him to some stores to update his wardrobe.  The memory brought a small smile to his face and he hoped if she did happen to show up she’d at least appreciate the color.    
  
Tony gave him a smile when he stepped out of the room.  He walked over, a pair of dress shoes he’d dug out of the closet in hand and passed them to Steve.  “Not bad, Rogers,” he said lightly as Steve worked on getting the shoes on.  When Steve stood Tony reached a hand to adjust the knot of the tie and Steve’s brow furrowed a little at the move.  Finally Steve passed the inspection he wasn’t aware he was even under and the pair made their way down to a waiting car.  
  
The drive was quiet, Steve lost in his own thoughts as the city passed by in the window.  His stomach felt like a bundle of nerves at the thought of seeing Natasha.  He tried to gather his thoughts, figure out a plan - what to do, what to _say_ .  But it was hard to focus and before he knew it they had pulled to a stop.  He glanced out the window and looked at the building.  He hadn’t even realized they’d headed into Brooklyn, and the small storefront seemed a huge departure from the venues Tony’s events typically were at.  Steve’s eyes glanced up to the bricks painted white, _Brooklyn Winery_ in black letters.  “This the place?” he asked, confusion clear in his voice.  
  
“This is it,” Tony assured him and the two men got out of the car.  Tony clapped him on the back as they made their way inside.  

They had barely made it into the door before Pepper strided over.  “Look at you,” she said as she moved toward Steve.  She repeated Tony’s earlier move of adjusting the tie and for the life of him Steve couldn’t figure out why they were both so concerned about the state of his tie.  She went further than Tony though and reached her hand up to brush at his hair, and then along the shoulders of his jacket, as though brushing off lint even though Steve was fairly sure the suit was immaculate.  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Tony gesture to someone and before he could even protest, Steve found himself in between Tony and Pepper as a woman with a camera snapped a few photos.    
  
Another woman appeared and handed Pepper a box from which she pulled out a boutonniere.  Pepper quickly pinned it to Steve’s lapel.  He watched her with a look of confusion, he’d been to what seemed like countless events for Tony’s various charities but never once had Pepper or Tony taken such a keen interest in how he looked, or pinned a boutonniere on him.    
  
“Five minutes,” Pepper said to Tony as they shared a conspiratorial glance and then she was gone.    
  
“Tony… what is going on?” Steve asked as Tony dragged him further into the building.  For a charity event it was a surprisingly small crowd.  A surprisingly small crowd made up entirely of people he knew.  Steve’s brow was raised as he took in the people assembled in chairs in a small semi circle - Sam sat with Maria (he made a quick mental note to ask about that one later), Clint and Laura (the latter of which who had a grin she couldn’t seem to contain), Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and a woman Steve recognized as someone he’d been seeing for a few months now.  Thor and Jane. Even Fury was there - sitting with a smug, satisfied, look on his face.  “What’s Fury doing here,” he couldn’t help but ask as Tony maneuvered him toward the front of the room, “I thought this was a charity event…”  
  
Steve let Tony situate him at the front of the room, and turn him to face the chairs.  He pushed Tony’s hand away as it, _again_ , went for his tie.  “I don’t know,” Tony started and settled for repeating Pepper’s move of brushing non existent lint off of Steve’s shoulders, “some might consider this charity,” he said with a smirk.  
  
Steve wasn’t a hundred percent sure what the comment meant, but it felt like a jab at him somehow and he gave Tony a look before he let his gaze move around the room.  It was a beautiful room, intimate and warm, enough flowers on various surfaces to add to the ambience but not so many as to overwhelm.  And as he let his eyes take in the people assembled again, the way they sat in chairs and Tony had set him at the front, a man he didn’t recognize that had come to stand just behind them, he started to put the pieces together.    
  
“You getting there, Cap?” Tony asked and smiled warmly.  He gave Steve another clap on the shoulder and then took a seat as Pepper moved into the room to slink into a chair as well.    
  
Steve’s heart pounded against his chest and he was sure he had the goofiest look on his face as music started to filter out of the speakers - a light acoustic song.  He could hardly _breath_ , especially as Natasha came into view and the inkling of a thought was suddenly a reality he couldn’t fathom even with it right in front of him.  She took his breath away; the simple, silk gown that hugged her curves perfectly before it pooled in a small train around her feet.  Her hair in loose curls, pinned back from her face and as their eyes met it was like the rest of the world completely melted away.  He kept her gaze as long as he could as she walked toward him, but had to glance upward as his emotions got the better of him and he pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes as tears collected.  He hung his head with a smile as she stopped in front of him.

“You said it didn't have to be anything big,” Natasha said. She knew maybe it was a gamble, that he hadn't even officially _asked_ her and she had gone and planned an actual wedding without him even knowing. But the look on his face as he lifted his gaze to her - the surprise mixed with complete awe and _so much_ love as he looked at her settled any fears. Her fingers relaxed their grip on the small bouquet she carried and she couldn't help but smile at his expression.

“It's perfect,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He felt overcome, but in the best possible way. Elated and happy like he never thought he could be. In his wildest dreams he had never imagined anything like this. He had barely been able to wrap his head around just _seeing_ her today and now here they were, about to get _married._ He slipped a hand behind her neck. “ _You're_ perfect,” he amended and kissed her.

“Hey!” Tony shouted from his seat. “You're supposed to wait until you're told.”  

Their friends laughed a little at that and Steve pulled back with a small laugh of his own. Natasha handed her bouquet off to Laura and then stood to face Steve. At the officiant's prompting they joined their hands together.

Steve and Natasha held each other's gaze as the officiant started to talk. As much as Natasha felt like she might burst from joy she was sure Steve felt just as much. At least if the grin on his face was anything to go by.  She could still feel the nerves - at the idea of the wedding she was now very much partaking in, and the bigger picture of committing herself to be Steve's wife - but they weren't laced with the overwhelming _fear_ she had felt earlier. Rather it was excitement. Elation at the prospect of what they were embarking on. And she knew in that instant she had made the right choice.

Steve squeezed her hands as he listened to the words of the officiant as he highlighted the sanctity of the vows they were about to take. It still felt entirely surreal, like some dream he never wanted to wake up from. And he knew without a doubt he would remember the way Natasha looked right then - in her ivory dress and her eyes bright with emotion - for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom anything on this earth being more beautiful than she looked in that moment.  

“I now invite the bride and groom to recite their own vows,” the officiant prompted and looked to Natasha first. Steve could feel her hands start to shake slightly - as much as Natasha could exude confidence in nearly everything he knew when it came to being upfront about her true emotions she tended to falter. And even though these gathered were their closest friends, their _family_ , he knew it was still another source of anxiety. So he gave her hands another soft squeeze with a reassuring smile.

Natasha nodded a little as she let out a steadying breath. “For most of my life I was never allowed to have what I have now, a place in the world.  Love was always something for anyone else but me, and I was resigned to that.  I was okay with that.  Until you.  Steve you have given me something I don’t think I could ever fully express the meaning of.  You’ve given me a place in the world and all that entails.  I am a better person because of the faith you put in me, both as my friend and partner and as the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.  And I know that I don’t always make it easy, or that I might stumble along the way, but I promise there is one thing you can always be sure of, and that is my love for you.”  She paused briefly and swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat, her eyes casting downward for a moment before she looked back at Steve, eyes shining with emotion.  “And I can think of nothing better than being your wife, Steve,” she added, the words she had wished she’d had the courage to say when she’d first found the ring.

“And now you, Steve,” the minster prompted as he motioned to Steve.

Steve glanced back to Natasha and smiled. “I - uh - I'm not really prepared,” he said sheepishly, to which Natasha just laughed softly. Steve paused and collected his thoughts before he started to speak again. “All my life I've never fit in, even when I was in the army and living the life I had always thought I wanted I still felt wrong, out of place, like something was missing.  And when I woke up I thought for sure any chance I had of finding my place was completely gone.  But then I met you, and somewhere along the line you went from my teammate, to my partner, to my friend and now the one person I can’t fathom my life without.  I know now I never fit in anywhere before because I was waiting to fit with you.  Our lives are nothing but uncertainty and chaos but in all of that you’re my constant, my touchstone, you’re the strength I need when mine falters, faith when I can’t find my own, and I swear that I will always be the same for you.  In the chaos and uncertainty there is one thing I’m always certain of, and that is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Natasha…” he paused for a moment and smiled wide.  “Will you marry me?” he asked, he knew it was maybe a silly question at this point, but it was one he had never officially gotten to ask her.  
  
Natasha grinned and nodded.  “Yes,” she answered.  “Yes.”  So maybe it was a little backwards, but then they both knew their whole relationship had been a bit like that.  Finding themselves several steps ahead of where they thought they were and having to play catch up.  Even from the start they had been in so much deeper than either of them had realized at the time.  Even far before that fateful night when this whole thing had started they both knew they’d been lying to themselves for ages about how they really felt.  And as Steve gave a quick look to their friends gathered, and the expressions on their faces he knew that the ones who were _really_ the last to know, had been him and Natasha.    
  
“We’ll move into the rings now,” the officiant instructed them softly and opened the small box he had in his hand.  He handed a simple titanium band to Natasha.  “Place the band on Steve’s ring finger and repeat after me,” he instructed and then spoke the wording for her.  
  
Natasha slipped the ring on Steve’s finger and held his gaze as she repeated the words, her voice strong and confident.  “This ring I give to you as a symbol of my love and devotion to you. I pledge to you all that I am and all that I will ever be as your wife. With this ring, I marry you and join my life to yours.  May my heart always be your shelter, and my arms always be your home.”  
  
The officiant handed Steve the ring that had started all of this.  He slipped it onto Natasha’s finger with a smile.  “This ring I give to you as a symbol of my love and devotion to you. I pledge to you all that I am and all that I will ever be as your husband. With this ring, I marry you and join my life to yours.  May my heart always be your shelter, and my arms always be your home.”  
  
“You may now kiss your bride,” the officiant told Steve with a warm smile.    
  
Steve grinned and hooked his arm around Natasha’s waist to pull her into him.  His other moved behind her neck as hers laced behind his.  He could hear the cheers of their friends as they kissed, the steady _click click_ of the camera and they both laughed against each other’s lips as Steve dipped her low and kissed her again.    
  
“It is my honor to present for the first time as husband and wife,” the officiant started as Steve and Natasha stood up straight again, their hands clasped together, “Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.”  
  
The guests stood from their seats as they clapped and Steve and Natasha walked down the fairly short aisle.  Natasha leaned in as they did.  “This is the one and _only_ time I will be called Mrs. Rogers, just putting that out there now that it’s too damn late for you to change your mind,” she said with a laugh.  
  
Steve laughed and pulled her in to kiss again.  He grinned against her lips when he pulled back.  “I am a hundred percent fine with that,” he assured her.     
  
He had so much more he wanted to say but they were quickly pulled into hugs as their friends crowded around, excited chatter and congratulations filling the air.  Everything after that seemed to pass in a blur.  Chairs and tables were arranged for dinner, impromptu toasts given and for at least one evening everyone seemed to forget that they were almost always one disaster away from having to save the world and they were all just _normal_ for a night.    
  
It wasn’t until dinner had been cleared and a small dance floor set up that Steve and Natasha found themselves with a moment alone - or as alone as they were going to get for the time being.  Their hands clasped together against Steve’s chest, his other resting on her waist and hers on his shoulder as they swayed slowly to the song.  “I can’t believe you planned all of this,” Steve said softly as they danced.  “What changed your mind?”  
  
Natasha lifted her eyes up to his and smiled.  “Laura talked some sense into me,” she answered, “and I realized that this big, scary, notion of marriage I had wasn’t what our marriage had to be.  That our marriage would just be more of what we’ve had all along.”  She paused for a moment.  “And I realized that the idea of _not_ being with you, having to go through my life without you because I was too scared to give into what I really wanted?  That was a hell of a lot scarier than being your wife.”  
  
Steve let go of her hand for a moment to bring his to her face, he cupped her cheek gently and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.  Their foreheads pressed together when he pulled back and he smiled.  “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice breaking with emotion.  “For today, for every day… for loving me and letting me love you, for being my wife.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” she answered with a smile of her own.  Their dance turned into more of a hug as the song started to ebb and Natasha leaned up to claim his lips once more as the song shifted into something more upbeat and their friends crowded onto the floor.  


________________________________  


Steve and Natasha stumbled in the hotel suite, a tangle of arms and lips.  The elevator doors had barely closed before Steve had pushed her back up against the wall, desperate and hungry for her.  A move that followed them through the hall and then through the door to the suite.  Natasha’s hands tugged at his jacket, discarding it the floor somewhere as his frame pressed her into the back of the door.  While neither of them would have traded the night for anything, by the end they had been more than ready to escape.  It hadn’t even been a week since the last time they had been together, but it felt like so much longer with the uncertainty of the past few days, and now the elation of their marriage.    
  
Steve’s hands ran up her sides as his mouth dragged along her neck, and she hummed appreciatively at the move.  His hands hesitated for a moment and he laughed softly against the side of her neck.  “Help?” he asked sheepishly as he realized he had no idea how to get her out of her dress.  
  
Natasha laughed and guided his hand to the side of the dress where a zipper was hidden.  Steve pulled it down and then she slipped the dress off her shoulders and stepped out of it once it pooled at her feet.  Steve’s eyes roamed her body, the off white lace bra and panties that she had worn under the dress.  He ran his hands lightly up the smooth, creamy skin of her stomach, over the swell of her breasts and down her arms.  Skin he would never grow tired of touching.  Natasha’s eyes watched his hands as they moved, the ring on his finger as it caught the light and she bit her lower lip as the gravity of what it meant hit her.   _Mine_ , she thought.  Declared for all the world to see and know, he was hers and was his.    
  
She deftly loosened his tie and dropped it to the ground, his shirt followed shortly.  But he stilled her hands as she moved to his pants and he pressed her back against the wall.  His mouth trailed a line from her lips to her chest, mouth latched around her nipple through the lace of her bra as a hand trailed up her thigh.  She shivered at the touch, goosebumps dotting her skin.  “ _Steve…_ ” she moaned out as his hand brushed against the apex of her thighs.    
  
He fell to his knees in front of her, his fingers hooked around her panties as he slid them down her legs.  She stepped out of them and he grabbed one of her legs as she did, his mouth trailed up her calf and inner thigh as he draped the limb over his shoulder.  Natasha sucked in a breath as his lips grazed so _close_ to where she wanted his attention. He took his time, of course, because if she’d learned one thing it was that Steve could be one hell of a tease.  He sucked a mark to the inside of her thigh as his fingers danced so lightly over her skin, and she found herself grinding down to get any sort of friction from the touch.  “ _Ass…_ ” she hissed out as he let his tongue dart a quick flick to her folds before he moved back to kiss the inside of her thigh.  
  
“I’m the ass you married, just remember that,” he laughed against her skin and then let out a _umph_ as her fingers threaded through his hair roughly and guided his mouth back to her wet folds.  She moaned as he licked a stripe through her heat and then sucked her clit between his lips.  He sunk a finger into her and she tightened her grip on his hair as another joined it.  Natasha ground herself against his willing mouth, it was all _so much_ and yet _not nearly enough._

“Steve…” she started with a whimper as he sucked and flicked at her clit, fingers curled inside of her.  “Steve… I need you…” she got out between ragged breaths and reached her other hand down to tug at him.  “ _Please,_ ” she all but begged, her voice a wreck as his mouth moved to graze his teeth against the skin of her thigh.    
  
He pulled his fingers out, wiped the wet slick against her leg and stood.  Natasha’s hands fumbled at his belt and tugged his pants down.  Steve kicked them off and then gripped Natasha’s thighs as she jumped up a little to wrap her legs around him.  Steve pushed her back into the wall, one arm tight around her waist and the other braced against the wall as he entered her.  Their eyes locked and they both stilled as they looked at each other.  

The gravity of this was not lost on either of them and Steve leaned down to kiss her slowly.  Her hands laced behind his head, fingers curled into the hair at the back of his neck.  He started to move slowly, purposefully, as their mouths clashed together.  “I love you… I love you…” he repeated over and over against her skin as his mouth trailed down her neck.  But words were soon lost to him as he was overcome with the feeling of making love to his _wife._  Her legs tight around his midsection he fumbled for her hands and laced their fingers together against the wall above her head.  His mouth captured hers again and then he pulled back to be able to look at her as they both got closer to closer to falling over the edge.    
  
“ _Steve…_ ” Natasha mumbled as her body shuddered as she could feel him spill into her and she pressed her hips into his, one last bit of a friction before her own orgasm followed.  They stayed still for a moment, breathing hard as they came down.  

Steve’s forehead fell into her chest and he laughed.  “I really meant to get you to the bed before ravishing you,” he joked lightly.  
  
Natasha laughed softly in reply.  “Beds are overrated,” she pointed out.    
  
“I also had big plans on carrying you over the threshold,” he added with another laugh.  
  
Natasha shrugged lightly.  “It’s a pretty outdated tradition,” she countered.  “You can carry me to the bed though if that’ll make you feel better,” she offered with a laugh.  
  
Steve let go of her hands and moved his arms back around her as he pulled out.  He kept his grip tight on her and moved them back toward the bedroom of the suite.  He gently laid her down on the bed and laid beside her, propping himself up on an elbow so he could look at her.  His other hand moved to take hers and he pressed a soft kiss to the ring on her finger.  

“Hey, Steve?” Natasha started.  
  
“Mmmhmm?” he replied lazily as he dropped her hand and let his draw idle patterns along the skin of her stomach.  
  
“I love that you married the first girl you slept with,” she said with a coy smile.  Words she had thrown in his face in a dramatically different way that she hadn’t even meant, but meant now.  She held his gaze when he looked up at her, with that little smile of his that was reserved only for her.    
  
“Yeah?” he asked, his lips moving to brush against hers gently as the touch of his hand became more purposeful, and he let his mouth move to follow his hand.  
  
“Yeah,” she said, a shiver as his hand brushed over her nipple and rolled it between his fingers.  “You’re mine,” she continued, “you’ve only _ever_ been mine,” another shiver as his mouth moved to her other breast.  “And I know I can’t say the same, at least not in the same way…” she paused and reached a hand to his face, a gentle tug to get him to move up to her level. She cupped his face and smiled softly. “But you're the only man who has ever had my heart, the only man who will _ever_ have my heart, and I'm yours, for the rest of my life, I'm yours.”

He held her gaze at the words before he leaned in to kiss her gently. He hooked an arm around her waist as he moved them to sit, pulling her into his lap. He lifted a hand and brushed it down the side of her face. His hand moved to interlace their fingers, rings catching the light. “For the rest of my life…” he echoed and gently pulled her down to kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is that!  
> Thank you everyone so much for reading along with this story, I can't tell you how much I appreciate everyone's support and comments. It's been a lot of fun and I'm glad I got to share this story with you all.


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